


The Collapse of His Genetic Sequencing

by BrideofCrixus



Category: Bane - Fandom, Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman (Movies - Nolan) RPF, Batman: The Dark Knight Returns (2012-2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27770776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrideofCrixus/pseuds/BrideofCrixus
Summary: Talia hatches a scheme to abduct Commissioner Gordon’s daughter Ophelia (Lia for short,) in exchange for several specific prisoner releases from Black Gate Prison. Bane enforces every one of Talia’s commands with zero hesitation and fatal efficiency. Bane follows without question and complete loyalty; he doesn’t give a second thought to who suffers for Talia’s legacy and everlasting greatness.
Relationships: Fear - Relationship, Interrogation - Relationship, abduction - Relationship, always something offensive, major character death - Relationship, torture - Relationship
Comments: 34
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Sounds of Foreplay

Ophelia Serena Gordon descended the trellis outside the extra bedroom’s second-story window at a snail’s pace. She squinted in the dark to make sure she didn’t close her hand around one of the rose’s thick, richly thorned branches.

She scampered across the lush lawn and slipped into the back seat of her best friend’s luxury sedan. Her friend Porsche was the daughter of the Governor and had also snuck out when her security detail’s shift change occurred, along with two other politician’s daughters. 

“Lia,” Porsche drawled, already buzzed on cheap vodka. 

Ophelia reached for the bottle and took a few burning swallows as Porsche slowly navigated away from where Commissioner Jim Gordon slept soundly next to his wife, unaware his only, beloved daughter would arrive at the gates of hell before dawn broke the night. 

Porsche gunned the large engine, her birthday present for getting accepted into an Ivy. 

She glanced up in the rearview mirror as Ophelia took another sip of the potent booze.

“You ready for your big night with Matty,” she teased and made wet, sucking sounds with her teeth until the other two girls were howling with infectious laughter.

“Oh my god Lia, are you finally going to let Matt in your precious panties?”

“Yeah Lia, you’ve been dating him for six months, are you waiting for a fucking ring or what?”

Ophelia rolled her eyes and plastered on a fake smile. “There’s just never been the right time.”

“Right time?” Porsche scoffed as she took the exit for the KOA campground. “We’ve been to like ten parties together.”

Kellie squeezed the top of Ophelia’s thigh, “we’re just teasing. You’re just being selective is all.”

Ophelia gave her a tight smile and blew out a relived breath when Michelle started asking about the campsite.

Porsche began to gush about the amenities as she pulled the car to a stop at the space she had rented. 

The respective boyfriends had been there a few hours and already had the four tents set-up, inflatable mattresses in place and charcoal grills crowded with hot dogs and burger patties covered in orange melting cheese.

As the campsite began to come to life with the girl’s arrival, growing closer in a set of large-tired, heavily reinforced panel vans, Talia turned in her seat to address Bane as he sat in the rear of the lead van on a ripped leather bench seat.

“Did you hear from our asset in Syria? Will he be able to supply the yellow cake?”

Bane looked up and met her eyes. 

Each time his pupils found hers, he felt a twinge deep inside his gut, a tickle at his innermost core, the place he stored words he could never say aloud.

He nodded. “He said it will be easier to go through Egypt than Turkey.”

Talia arched an eyebrow as she thought of the last time they had a run in with security in Egypt. 

Bane knew she was also thinking about that unfortunate incident. 

An incident he blamed himself for. 

Nearly fifteen years earlier to the date, Talia had arranged a nice little exchange of money for some Soviet era AK-47’s

Mikhail Kalashnikov’s desiccated corpse would be doing back flips in his military cemetery’s coffin if he knew how much his beloved design was fetching on the black market.

Bane had handled the pick-up and money exchange details. He hadn’t vetted the Egyptian sellers enough and had been in actuality planning to buy guns from both an FBI and ATF agent. Talia had nearly been captured by airport security and the federal agents. He would never again not dig until he scraped the molten core of the world. He now interrogated suspects and disarticulated them enough to be able to count every pair of chromosomes. 

Bane, Barsad and the other well-paid anonymous men cut down many lives that sunny afternoon. Many civilians and law enforcement officers lost their lives in a clumsy, violent, bukkake blood fest. 

Bane had never forgiven himself for nearly losing Talia.

Later when they were back in the safe house, Bane had dropped to his knees in front of Talia and clasped her small hands in his large, blood-stained grip. His ragged cuticles were covered in coagulated blood as he squeezed her hands and pressed his forehead to the top of her hand.

“I vow to never allow your life to be at risk like that again. You have my last breath, word and heartbeat.”

Talia had smiled down at him, so full of pride for his loyalty. She had leaned down and pressed her lips to the mesh front of his mask. Later he would find her lipstick residue clinging to the metal.

Bane was brought back to the present as Talia nodded in satisfaction and turned back around in the passenger seat. 

Her eyes flicked over to Barsad as he pushed the accelerator further to the floor, the hungry engine consumed the miles between them and the campsite.

As Barsad drew them closer, the second van full of dangerous men a short distance behind them, Lia and her friends danced, ate, drank, and started moving their make out sessions to more private locations. 

Bane closed his eyes and leaned forward as he clasped his hands in front of him. He took deep breaths of his adjusted analgesic inhalant and felt his nerve-endings dancing under his skin as he walked through the carefully thought out steps in his head. 

Talia learned of a few chemical engineers that were being held in Black Gate before they were due to be deported. One of the men she believed to be falsely imprisoned because of his beliefs, had written a paper on a nuclear fusion reactor that made Talia climax just thinking about it and the power it held. 

No man would ever be able to explode between her thighs like that.

Talia had seen a brief blurb in the gossip section of the Gotham Press of Commissioner Gordon’s daughter at a ten thousand dollar a plate gala with an elegantly dressed frat boy. 

Jim Gordon tried to keep Ophelia out of the public eye and never answered questions about her. She’d been accepted to several schools but was keen on one on the  
other side of the country. 

Talia enlisted Barsad to obtain a complete timetable of Ophelia’s activities. He overheard her talking about the camping trip as she was getting her nails done with Porsche. 

Talia planned on abducting Gordon’s daughter in exchange for the political prisoners being held at Black Gate. 

As Matthew August Hillson eagerly yanked at Ophelia’s hot pink yoga pants, his groans of anticipation turned to shouts of fear when the tent was torn open with what looked like a machete. 

Matthew’s voice joined the others in an off-key choir. 

A pock-marked man with tattooed knuckles pulled Porsche towards Talia. The man pushed Porsche to the dirt in front of Talia’s boots and stepped back, wordlessly awaiting further instruction. 

Talia stared down at the crying, sniveling girl before she shook her head. “Not her.”

Kristopher, Porsche’s current flame, shouted her name as the quiet man aimed his pistol at the back of her skull and pulled the trigger. 

Another quiet man ended Kristopher’s next guttural cry before it could fill the air. 

Matthew stepped in front of Ophelia as Talia pointed in their direction. 

The same man that had killed Porsche, adjusted the silencer on his gun as he stomped towards Matthew and Ophelia. 

“Run Lia,” Matthew whispered under his breath. 

“I wouldn’t run,” came the sudden musical words from behind them. 

They both turned and Ophelia screamed as the masked man loomed over them. Before she could blink, his large hand shot out and caught her right upper arm and yanked her towards Talia. 

She appeared like a puny worm on a large, metal hook as she futilely struggled within his ironclad grasp.

“There she is, hello Miss Gordon, I’m so sorry for this inconvenience,” Talia said as her full lips pulled into a wide smile. 

Ophelia tried to step backwards, and Bane adjusted his grip until he ended up standing behind her, a hand closed around her upper arms. 

“Who are you?” Ophelia managed as Talia reached out and pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear as she continued in a cool tone. 

“I only need you, if you hadn’t of snuck out, your friends would still be alive.”

Ophelia begin to scream as she watched the men kill her remaining friends, firing over and over into bodies that were no longer living. 

Bane dropped one hand around her waist and pressed his other palm over her mouth as Talia shushed her. 

“You’ll be back just as soon as your daddy does what I want. He will,” Talia reassured her as Bane lifted Ophelia and carried her to one of the vans with the side sliding door open. 

Talia watched as Bane shoved Ophelia in the van. “Your father will play ball,” Talia said as her men began clean-up of the bleeding bodies and she watched Bane duct tape Ophelia’s mouth and zip-tie her flailing limbs before he slammed the side door shut. 

Talia watched the van recede, smiling in satisfaction that everything was falling in line for the most part. 

She glanced at her watch. If traffic conditions held, Bane would be at the off the grid house with the commissioner’s daughter in a few hours. 

Once there, Bane would begin to get answers to a list questions that Talia had compiled. 

Bane’s tightened his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles tightened. He was enjoying hearing the commissioner’s daughters sobs from the floor of the van. Her cries stifled from the tape. 

Her evolving sounds of pain, fear and anticipation of death provided foreplay to his hedonistic delight on obtaining answers to any question.


	2. Worthless

Sara and Jim Gordon slept peacefully in their large bed, the house and perimeter secured by a private company, unaware that their only daughter Ophelia was being dragged across a cold, cement garage floor into an isolated cabin, miles from anything human or a phone line.

Before Bane left Ophelia tied up with her mouth taped shut, he threw a burlap bag over her head that smelled like mold. Her eyes stung as tears fell from them freely. 

Ophelia didn’t hear him the first time he spoke over the sound of her sobs. 

Bane’s large hand slapped her shrouded head and made her ear sting. “Shut up,” he barked, and she tried to stifle her sounds as he continued. “Strip.”

Ophelia swiveled her head to where she thought he was standing as she stayed curled up on the floor.

She shouted behind the thick tape as she felt him cut the plastic ties from her wrists and ankles.

“Strip,” he repeated. She flinched with the proximity of the baritone melody outside her burlap visioned world.

Ophelia felt screams fall from between her lips as his large hand snaked up the front of the bag and ripped the silver tape free. 

“Strip.”

“No,” she cried and shook her head, the mildew-scented bag kissing her sweaty skin.

“Strip.”

“No, why? No.”

“I need to make sure you’re not hiding anything.”

“I don’t have anything, I swear.”

“Take your clothes off now or I will do it for you, you will not prefer my method.”

Ophelia fought back tears as she began to slowly slip out of her clothes.

She flinched as the fearsome man moved around what sounded like metal pipes, the sound of a pneumatic drill bounced off the heavily insulated walls.

Bane watched her hesitate to let her bra fall to the floor as she shivered in her thin lace panties, her beautiful face covered.

Ophelia’s heart was beating too fast and the sound of her blood rushing through her ears was too loud to register the weight of his gaze. 

“Stand up straight,” he barked as he never stopped working with the metal pieces.

Ophelia clenched her hands into fists and stood as straight as she could. 

“All of it,” Bane said and watched Ophelia remain frozen. His anger burner brighter at her blatant disobedience. 

He finished assembling his project and set the drill aside before he rose to his feet and crossed the small room to stand in front of her. 

Ophelia cried out in shock as one of his hands landed on the back of her neck and moved through the hair at the base of her neck and even thoroughly squeezed the length of her braid. Ophelia was frozen as he moved his hands over every part of her. 

Ophelia raised her hands as he pulled at the hem of her plain panties. His anger had never stopped burning and he closed one large hand around her thin neck. 

He tightened his grip as he practically lifted her onto her tiptoes and pushed her backwards until he forced her against the wall. 

“When I give you a direct order, you follow it the first time,” Bane growled in an easy music tone as he tore her panties free. 

Ophelia gasped as he leaned closer, she could smell the faint touch of the medicinal inhalant upon each of his exhales through the burlap veil. 

Her breath left her lungs, and her vision began to fade around the edges. She felt the faint touch of embarrassment and humiliation as her bladder released and hot urine splashed down her inner thighs and dripped onto the cold floor.

Bane released her throat and she fell heavily to the floor, landing in the puddle of her still hot piss. 

Bane stared down at her wordlessly, his breath was coming hard in his chest. He clenched his hands into fists, excitement and curiosity surged within him as he stared down at the commissioner’s daughter curled up on the wood floor in her own sour piss. 

“I have no doubt that there are lines of men that would willingly jump to their death for your fresh, delectable cunt. They don’t see who you really are. You’re an animal and not even one of value, I can’t shove a ring in your nose and make you worth your weight.”

Ophelia tried to get control of her breathing as Bane reached down and grabbed her closest hand. 

“What kind of work can you perform?” he asked as he traced the rough tip of his index finger over the delicate acrylic nails she’d just had done a few days before. 

“You’re a pretty little doll, meant for display purposes but you’re filled with dust. You lack honor, but your father will bend time to get you back,” Bane murmured as he tore one of her decorated acrylic nails free. He ripped the nail with such force that he pulled it right off the nail bed, leaving a raw, wet aftermath.

Ophelia screamed as he shoved her inside the large metal cage he’d just assembled. She yanked her hood free just as he exited the room and locked the door behind him.

She didn’t know as she looked around that he was watching on cameras he had placed around the room.

Ophelia looked around the cage, her eyes fell on a red bowl of water next to a matching red bowl that was empty. Her eyes fell on a long-sleeved shirt with a hole in the right armpit. She slid into the oversized shirt and pulled a scratchy wool blanket around herself. 

Bane settled heavily into the wheeled office chair in the neighboring room. He fiddled with a dial at the base of his mask and took a few deep breaths as he watched Ophelia Serena Gordon look around the inside of her new caged home.

He smiled behind his mask as her eyes widened at a metal bucket in the corner, a ripped-up fashion magazine leaning next to it, the cover speckled with dried shit.

Bane leaned closer to one of the many screens as he zoomed one of the 8K HD cameras in on Ophelia’s tear-swollen face as she looked around and slowly lowered her face to the bowl of water.

He held his breath as she held her tangled hair back and licked at the water. Bane’s breath fogged the screen as he watched her pink tongue break the still surface of the tepid tap water.


	3. Whole, Accurate and Incomplete Truths

Bane increased the analgesic inhalant level on his mask as he continued to watch Ophelia lick the tepid water like a cat with her pink tongue. 

On the HD screen Ophelia curled up into as small she could make herself; hot tears fell from her eyes to drop wetly on the unforgiving cement floor. 

Bane swore in a dead language as his burner phone chimed obnoxiously and he had to take his eyes off the many screens of Ophelia as she suffered and sobbed on the cold floor, the scent of her sour piss filled the air. 

He quickly swallowed his anger as Talia’s voice sounded through the cheap, plastic phone. 

“How is the young one?”

Bane glanced at the multiple screens, “she’s still trying to figure out how she got here,” he said with a deep chuckle.

On the screen Ophelia pulled her limbs inside the thin shirt and the blanket over her head as she shuddered on the unforgiving floor. 

“I’m going to be delayed getting there,” Talia started before she began to explain away her tardiness in the cultured Miranda Tate dulcet tones that fanned the bitter anger in his gullet over her portrayal of the well-paid, benevolent cunt that billionaires lost their fucking minds over. 

“Bruce needs to see Miranda at once, a financial problem within his company. I think Bruce is starting to smell something amiss,” she purred as Bane clenched his teeth until his jaw popped.

“I need your help my friend,” Talia said back in her own voice and immediately Bane jumped right into his pre-ordained role. He stood up straighter in the small cabin as Talia continued. 

“I have a list of questions I need Miss Gordon to answer, ensure her answers about the financials are accurate.”

Bane nodded and jotted down everything she said.

“I need you to get answers to every one of my questions my friend,” Talia murmured before she ended the call.

“I swear it,” he growled before the beeping dial tone sounded in his ear.

Bane found Talia’s list; he traced his rough fingertips over the beautiful cursive letters of each of her questions. 

After he reviewed the list, he assembled a battery pack onto a tablet that constantly bounced its GPS coordinates off random cell-towers from Dubai to Miami Beach.

Before Bane returned to Ophelia in her cage, she had her eyes squeezed tightly shut and was trying to find a modicum of comfort on the chilly floor. Her left upper arm ached from where she was lying curled on her side. She scoffed instead of sobbed as she thought of having the Nexplant birth control implanted just a few days prior to the sneaky nocturnal camping trip and when Matt was still alive and very eager to fuck her.

Ophelia uttered a startled shout when Bane opened the door and stomped into the room. He made several trips to retrieve a small card table, a couple tablets and his yellow lined notebook. 

Ophelia struggled to a sitting position and watched Bane untangle a bundle of cords and check several connections before he began typing IPP addresses into each tablet. 

Bane finally looked up at her, catching her staring and smiling coldly behind his mask. His anticipation for answer-gathering made an electrical hum spread throughout his nervous system.

Ophelia licked her lips automatically as he set out a small container of orange juice, a rectangular box of glazed donut holes, a sleeve of buttery crackers and unscrewed the lid of a stainless-steel thermos. 

Her salivary glands could smell the rich cocoa compete in the air with the aroma of her old piss. 

Ophelia’s eyes narrowed in on the sugary pastry and flinched when Bane’s voice boomed in the small, heavily insulated room. 

“I have some questions I need you to answer Miss Gordon,” he started as he clicked a few keys on the tablet’s smudged screen and brought up the login portal for Gotham National Bank. 

“Login and password for your financial institution?”

Bane’s smiled broadened behind his mask, “there are both negative and positive ramifications to your answers Miss Gordon.”

“L-I-A-S-E-R-G-E-1-7-4-7,” Ophelia finally murmured and watched Bane tap the screen. 

“Password?” he asked without looking up at her.

“O-G-O-R-1-5-9,” he mumbled and looked at the floor.

Bane pressed his lips together behind his mask when an error message popped up after he tapped the login key.

“Miss Gordon, do you believe you are somehow immune to consequences because of your father and standing in the community?”

Ophelia’s eyes went wide as he rose to his feet. “The password is all in capital letters,” she said quickly. 

Bane remained standing as he typed in the new password and was again met with the same error message as well as a bold font message that he had one more   
attempt to logging before the account would be locked..

Ophelia didn’t have time to register what was happening until five hundred volts was sent through her body via the metal prongs he shoved into the supple flesh of her hip. 

Bane towered over her as she wailed on the floor. If he’d been standing in front of the sun, he would’ve eclipsed it with his broad form. 

He returned to the metal folding chair as her Ophelia’s breath returned to normal.

“Login information Miss Gordon?”

Ophelia flinched when his hand closed around the end of the baton. 

“The first letter is capitalized on each,” she stammered as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Ophelia dropped her head and watched him through the fringe of her lashes as her account’s homepage appeared on the screen and he went about moving money from her account into routing numbers in Zurich. 

Bane looked up and returned her stare even through the veil her lashes provided. 

“Social security number?” he asked as he tapped a few buttons on the second tablet. 

“5-5-5…,” she started and took a deep breath as the smell of the cocoa and sweet fried dough teased her nausea to a fever pitch as she added quickly. “6-8-9-6-9-6.”

“Very good Miss Gordon,” Bane murmured and rose to his feet after the tablet chimed twice.

Ophelia cried out as soon as he began to rise. Her voice trailed off as he opened the orange juice container and held it out towards her. 

Her hands shook so bad that she nearly dropped the small carton as she deeply drank the tart juice. 

Ophelia grunted when he took the carton back, not wanting her to vomit the acidic citrus all over the hard floor.

Bane resumed speaking before he resumed sitting behind the table. 

“What is the login information to your parents account?”

Ophelia blinked wordlessly at him and slightly shook her head.

Bane sat back in the chair and steepled his fingertips under his chin and stared at her until she began to squirm.

“Miss Gordon, please don’t pretend to not know how to get extra money to your purse. You were observed withdrawing money with your mother’s ATM card last Saturday evening.”

Ophelia coughed nervously as he danced his fingertips along the table, moving closer to the electric baton. “I only know the pin number,” she admitted without looking up.

Bane nodded and considered her answer. “Is there a safe at your home?”

Ophelia nodded.

“The combination?”

“17-44-58,” she mumbled so low Bane almost didn’t detect it. The nerve-soothing analgesic enhanced his hearing, and he caught her every numerical whisper. 

As Bane let his eyes move around her shaking form, hours away back at the Gordon household, Sara Gordon groaned when her alarm clock began beeping rapidly. 

Jim grumbled from the other side of the bed as the alarm broke him from dreams of running through lush, green cornfields, stems bursting with fleshy ears adorned with silken strands. His childhood bare feet squished wet kernels of corn between his toes. 

Jim rolled over and caught Sara in his sleepy arms. “Happy anniversary my love,” he murmured and pressed his lips to the back of her neck. 

Sara smiled and turned in his arms and kissed him lustily despite their dueling dragon breaths. 

“Let’s go wake up Lia and make pancakes,” Sara said with a smile when she lifted her lips.

“We’ve got time for that,” Jim rasped, his heavy tone made Sara’s pussy twinge. 

The Gordon’s celebrated the morning of their twentieth anniversary with an easy-going fuck.

They had no idea that while they lost each other in mutual satisfied, soft sighs and wet thrusting, their only daughter was cowering on the cold floor, in front of a masked mad man, one wrong answer away from the loss of limbs and life.


	4. Happy Anniversary

As the Gordon’s finally slipped out of bed on the foggy morning of their anniversary and brushed their teeth, hours away, Bane towered over Lia as she squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of something terrible.

Lia finally opened her eyes a sliver when a few full minutes passed with no words except her rapid breathing in symphony with his mechanical exhalations.

She blinked rapidly when she saw him holding out a sugary glazed donut hole towards her.

Lia grunted in frustration when he held it just out of her reach when she tried to pluck it from his calloused fingers. 

Bane brought the sweet pastry closer to her full lips, her salivary glands flooded her mouth with sour tasting saliva.

Lia sniffed hard and took a small bite from the fried dough, avoiding his fingertips. 

She sat back on her heels, not able to bring herself to eat the rest even though her stomach twisted into angry knots of desire. 

“Eat the rest,” Bane demanded melodically and shoved the remainder of the glazed pastry against her lips. 

Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes as she swallowed the sweet dough. Bane smiled behind his mask as he forced his fingers further into her mouth, sliding against the wet flesh on the inside of her cheek. He fucked her mouth with his fingers, making her clean every bit of crystallized sugar from his scarred fingers.

Bane felt a stirring in his groin as the nerve endings in his cock were stirred to life.

His mood was temporarily smothered when the cheap burner phone chimed repeatedly with several incoming text messages.

He reluctantly withdrew his fingers from her wet mouth and held her eyes for a few heartbeats until he read the multiple messages from Talia. 

“Take pictures I can send to Gordon. Take them in this order,” he started to read and felt a jolt through his body as he read through the rest of the message and the pictures Talia wanted when she contacted Gordon about the life of his only child and her demands. 

“Have the newspaper’s date in focus. Blindfolded and handcuffed, make her afraid first.”

Bane replied with a stand-by and simple affirmation before turning his full attention to Lia where she shivered on the chilly, hard floor.

He tossed a tri-folded newspaper towards her, the thick blue rubber band holding together the advertisement bloated Sunday edition. It had been a struggle finding a newspaper available, they weren’t as easily available everywhere like they used to be. 

“Open that and hold it up with the date visible.”

Lia’s hands shook as she struggled with the rubber band and eventually held the paper in front of her chest. 

Bane remained silent as he walked closer and held the phone up as he snapped a picture. He frowned down at the image and made her change her pose and took fifteen more photos at an agonizingly slow pace. 

He eventually grew bored of the current moment and messaged Talia the first photo he had taken.

Bane slid the phone in his pocket a moment before pulling a set of handcuffs from his other pocket. 

Lia immediately tensed. Her eyes darted everywhere around the room, even there was absolutely nowhere for her to go.

“It’s for the photo,” he said and wrangled her wrists before she could process. She held her breath as he tied a ratty grey scarf around her eyes.

“Hold still,” he demanded raggedly as a rush of blood began to engorge his cock and grow uncomfortable behind his pants zipper.

Lia heard the click of the camera as she held her breath. 

She lost track of time and began to feel dizzy as he grunted random orders as to how she should pose herself. 

Bane continued to click pictures even though he had already sent Talia a photo. He snapped another photo as he dropped his free hand to the front of her pants and freed his heavy cock, growing harder as he biocentrically was already inside her.

“Sit back against the wall,” he rasped musically. 

Lia was relieved to sit back; her thighs had begun to shake from holding herself so rigid.

“Spread your legs,” he demanded as he began to stroke the length of his thick cock, the head glistening with pre-cum stickiness.

Lia furiously shook her head as Bane chucked melodically. 

“Are you worried I won’t be able to control myself around your cunt?” 

Lia blushed with such strength that the blood vessels of her face ached. 

A scream flew with ferocity from her lips as his large hand found her sternum and knocked the breath from her lungs. 

As Lia coughed and tried to utter coherent protests. 

Bane roughly pushed and pulled her until she was on her back. He pushed her thighs apart and stared down at her open and vulnerable intimacy.

He slipped the phone in his pocket before adjusting a couple dials on his mask, needing to stomp away some the lust driven adrenaline or he was going to finish in his palm like an uncontrolled teenager. 

Lia flushed deeper with embarrassment, she got out of gym because of the mildest asthma in medical history. She preferred to watch people exercise on tv and very rarely lamented her softness.

Bane’s eyes greedily drank in her soft belly and shell pink lips of her smooth pussy. 

Her body was not that of a warrior’s, she was not a soldier. Bane’s eyes memorized her supple, unscarred skin. 

Lia gasped as her breath began to return when she felt him trail the fingertips of one hand up the inside of her thigh. 

She didn’t know that as his fingertips slid closer to her intimacy, his other hand increased its rhythm on his painfully hard cock. 

“Don’t look at me,” Lia managed to shout and tried to close legs.

“Why?” he growled as he slid his hand to settle over her femininity. Her pussy was warm and soft under his palm as he waited for an answer.   
Lia remained wordless and renewed her struggling. 

“We found you with that young man,” Bane murmured as he felt his balls tighten and lift closer to his body as his knee-shaking orgasm was imminent.

Lia shook her head, fear strangling her vocal cords as he brushed a finger through her intimate folds. She was too frightened to even force into making wet for him to sink himself inside.

He took a huge breath of his medicinal inhalant as he came in two got spurts into his palm. 

Bane kept any sound of ecstasy suppressed as he shifted until he could move his cum dripping fingertips in slow circles around her clit.

Lia tried to slide away from Bane as he slid his fingertip from her clit to brush against her tight opening as he resumed the circular teasing of her clit with the pad of his rough thumb.

Lia’s mouth fell open as he slid his thick middle finger inside her just enough to feel the thin barrier of untouched resistance. 

A musical moan slipped from Bane’s lips as he didn’t push his finger further but shallowly finger fucked her until she was caught between a perfect storm of embarrassment, fear, and a swath of new feelings.

Bane let his eyes close as he pushed the oversized shirt up until he could squeeze her full tit and tease his thumb around her blush rose nipple until the skin puckered and stiffened under his attention. 

He couldn’t believe his thoughts and would’ve beat anyone else to death for entertaining mere thoughts of sedition as he thought for a moment he was glad Talia was going to be just a little delayed.

“More time with this delectable treat,” Bane thought and breathed in time with her rapid pants of fear and shameful pleasure. 

Lia fought for control of her breath and body with the shallow invading plunge of his fingers. She flushed as she wanted to thrust her hips up to meet the electrical pulses he was creating as he circled her clit faster.

Bane chuckled and lowered his masked face to hover over hers. He breathed deeply and tried to pull in her scent on the exhale filtered by the titanium mesh front of his mask.

“Stop,” she panted as he continued to tease her cunt’s opening just enough to keep her physical innocence intact. “Please,” she groaned as he chuckled lowly. His all-masculine tone made her breakout in goose bumps as a body bending orgasm shook her to the core.

Her tight, wet pussy walls pulsed around his finger as she came. Bane wanted to rip his mask free and choke to death on the room air in order to bury his tongue in her pink innocence. 

Bane watched her full lips part as she arched her back and shuddered. He quickly pulled his finger from her wet center and while she caught her breath and equilibrium on the hard floor, he roughly shoved her thighs as wide as he could force them and snapped a double-digit string of pictures of her exposed pink opening.

He spread her puffy pussy lips apart and snapped more pictures, holding the camera close enough that Lia could feel the hot flash of the camera against her intimate flesh. He snapped a half dozen pictures of her clit, still pulsing from the aftermath of her orgasm.

Bane left Lia crying, shaking and afraid on the floor, he left the cuffs and blindfold in place as he returned to the small room with the surveillance monitors. 

He scrolled through the photos he had just snapped of her untouched cunt. He had been certain she was the young athlete’s trophy fuck puppet for high school until it was on to college football and other women. 

Bane slipped the phone away; he wouldn’t be sending the new pictures to Talia.

Bane looked up at the HD screen as Lia curled into an awkward fetal position within her confines. He steepled his fingertips under his chin as he observed her pain through the pixels. 

He looked around even though he knew he was alone and took a huge lungful of his aerosolized analgesic before unfastening his mask and lifted it away just enough to be able to expose his lips that were bisected by a scar and crooked nose from multiple breakages.

Bane felt a pleasurable aftershock race throughout his system as he smelled the fingers that had just been wetly plunging into her tight wet hole. He salivated as he pulled the warm scent of her pink pussy deep inside his metabolically damaged lungs. 

He quickly slipped his mask back into place as his lungs began to burn inside his chest and resumed watching Lia on the multiple monitors. 

Bane eventually slid into a light nap as hours away back at the Gordon household, Sara Gordon shouted for Jim when she found a crude human-shaped form of pillows under the three-thousand thread count sheets of Lia’s bed.

Sara and Jim were just angry at Lia for sneaking out. Jim’s phone began to chime with a deluge of messages from Talia in the other room. 

Sara and Jim’s twentieth anniversary started with a nice fuck and mutual orgasms and soon evolved into anger at their teenage daughter’s antics. Paralyzing fear was waiting in the other room, ready to pounce, smother and consume.


	5. Memory-Making Monday

Jim Gordon squinted down at his smart phone; he had left his glasses on the upstairs nightstand.

The very moment that Jim realized that he was staring down at a picture of his daughter, Sara was peering around him before he could hide the screen.

Sara greedily snatched Jim’s phone and stared down at the first photograph that Talia had sent of Lia blindfolded, blood visible on the bruised and swollen visible parts of her face.

“Jim? Jim! What is this?!?” Sara shouted hysterically.

Jim tore his phone back from her and tried to help his wife who was beginning to emotionally spiral.

“Sara, it has to be a joke with Lia and her friends. You saw her bed, she snuck out, she’s probably still mad she can’t go to Paris over the holidays with her rich   
friends.”

“But Jim, Lia wouldn’t do something like this.”

Jim smiled gently at his wife and wrapped his arm around her as he tucked her closer to his side and guided her to the kitchen. He started the twelve-cup coffee pot and plastered on a good humor face. While his back was to Sara as he heavily sweetened her coffee cup until it tasted like a honeybee bukkake party, his worry simmered. 

“She’s an angry teenager,” Jim repeated to himself as he splashed whole milk in his own cup and joined Sara at the round kitchen table. 

As Sara sipped the scalding Colombian roast, not tasting it, hours away at the secluded, heavily insulated cabin, Lia shivered as she tried to curl into a smaller form,   
thinking she could compress herself so tiny, she’d disappear and float away like a single grain of sand.

Lia felt fresh tears sting her eyes behind the rough cloth pulled tight across her eyes as the aches in her body began to announce themselves in random order. She gasped as her torn, fleshy nailbed brushed across the hard floor, igniting the nerves.

She gingerly shifted on the ground, trying to yank her shirt down from where the masked man had ripped it up to expose her naked skin. 

The metal loops of her handcuffs tinkled musically as she tried in vain to cover her nudity. 

A harsh sob escaped Lia’s throat as she felt hot spots throbbing under her skin from where her captor’s hands had roughly handled her. She knew without sight that she was decorated with visible paint splotches from his abuse. 

A stressed and inappropriate giggle spilled from between her cracked lips as she thought of how the camping trip was supposed to have happened. Her giggle   
tapered into a dry cough as she remembered shopping just days before at the high-end lingerie boutique with Porsche and her other girlfriends.

“Matty will come in his pants when he sees you in this,” Porsche had drawled as she held up the skimpiest piece of lace and satin in the shop. The little champagne white triangle of lace would barely cover her private slit. The scant fabric would kiss the silken smooth skin of her shaved pussy that Matt had requested for his personal, viewing pleasure. 

Lia shook her head as she remembered Matt whispering his request in her ear as he dry-humped her and pushed his denim-covered hard cock against the inside of her upper thigh.

In the adjoining room, Bane had stirred from his nap when the handcuffs metallic jingling caught his ear and then her various sounds that seemed to bounce back and forth and every which way between pain, fear, and impending psychosis. 

Bane leaned forward in the leather, swiveling chair, bringing his masked face closer to the HD screen that was zoomed in on Lia’s face, her suffering filling the screen as he focused on her full, dried lips that she pressed together, attempting to stifle her cries. 

Bane had no idea how far he had immersed himself into staring at her, absorbing her image, memorizing each pixel until the front of mask tapped against the HD screen. He grunted, the most startled he could actually be when his phone began to ring shrilly from a low table. 

Talia was in conversation with someone else when he picked up the call in the middle of its third ring. He listened for a few heartbeats as she conversed with someone in the rich, haughty tone of Miranda Tate. 

He listened to Talia prattle on about an upcoming charity gala. Bane froze and clenched his teeth until his jaw popped when Talia began speaking about the Saint Swithin’s Home for Boys with a male whose voice sparkled as white as his teeth. 

“Yes,” he finally grunted and heard Miranda take a delicate intake of breath and excuse herself to powder her nose with a feminine giggle that turned Bane’s gut inside out and gave birth to a rotten, acidic egg in the middle of his brain. 

Bane heard a door shut and her high heels clicking on tile before she spoke in her normal, Talia tone. “My friend,” she started. “I regret there’s been a slight change of plans, I need to ……,” she continued until she was interrupted by the bathroom door being thrown open. 

Bane curled his fingers into fists as Talia quickly affixed herself into the elegant Miranda as someone pounded on the bathroom stall she was standing within. 

“Occupied,” Bane heard Talia say in her Miranda tone and felt completely helpless when he heard the phone clatter and make a bunch of strange noises that spilled coldly into his brain. 

On the other end of the discarded phone, Talia had felt her own heart pause when Bruce ended up being the one pounding on the other side of the bathroom stall door. 

Talia hastily slid into her Miranda skin suit as she opened the door to Bruce’s dazzling eyes, bright smile, filled with red blood cells in the shape of dollar symbols.

Talia greeted Bruce with her own dynamic Miranda smile and subtle wantonness as she met his eager mouth. In her effort to become Miranda too quickly, she inadvertently hit the video option on the cheap phone, the picture quality was pure shit but enough for anyone to see exactly was happening at a casual glance. 

Bane heard the sound of Talia’s voce transition to Miranda as Bruce’s voice joined hers in the stall. He heard a clatter and beep before he held the phone away from his ear and stared down at the square screen.

Bane felt his body temperature rise and pressure began to build, left unchecked he would become a repeat of Krakatoa.

He could practically feel his pupils dilate as he watched Talia masquerading as Miranda on the small screen in her burgundy gown, specially tailored to showcase her assets without looking like too much of a slut. 

Bane didn’t blink for the three full minutes it lasted from start to finish for Bruce to free his billionaire, cleanly circumcised cock, and push Miranda’s gown up and around her slim hips. 

One of Miranda’s very high heels fell to the floor as Bruce fucked her with the enthusiasm of a teenage quarterback with something to prove. 

Miranda said all the right words into Bruce’s rich ear, his hair follicles vibrated like his painfully hard cock as he plunged inside her wet philanthropic center. 

“Yes Bruce. Be my protector in this dangerous world Bruce.”

Bane finally blinked at Talia’s words and ended the call. He threw the phone into the small room’s corner and quickly fumbled with the small dial on the right side of   
his mask at the base of his skull. He breathed in rapidly, the aerosol now filled with an extra strength opiate, the vapor so thick he nearly chocked on the analgesic particles which filled his nasal passages and danced the length and girth of each nerve ending. 

As Bane’s anger roiled, his loyalty was suddenly shaken and questionable as he heard words meant for him spoken into Bruce’s ear as his rock-hard billionaire cock plunged into Miranda Tate’s benevolent cunt, in the other room Lia continued to shake and shudder on the chilly, hard floor.

Lia willed herself to fall into sleep, coma or even death for a reprieve from the fear and the impending as well as actual darkness. 

Hours later, in the kitchen of the only home Lia had lived in up until that moment in her life, Jim flinched, and Sara cried out when Jim’s phone began to ring with his belltower ring tone. 

“Commissioner Gordon?” Jim said carefully, trying to imbue the full power of the GPD into his words.

“Commissioner Gordon,” came the feminine voice that almost made Jim drop his phone. “This is Commissioner Jim Gordon?” the voice asked.

“Yes. Yes,” Jim answered more forcefully.

“You have a beautiful daughter Jim and if you want her to keep being so lovely, you’ll listen carefully,” the female voice purred before Jim angrily interrupted.

“Listen here,” he started and heard the voice swell with emotions before cutting his words at the knees, eviscerating him with threats that were pregnant with follow-through.

“Silence Gordon or I’ll send your daughter back to you piece by piece, starting with the heart that loves her daddy so very much.”

Jim swallowed hard and turned his back towards Sara so she wouldn’t see the blood drain from his face.

“I’m listening,” he said as his voice threatened to break.

“Better Jim, better. I’ll get right to the point. Your lovely daughter will be just fine as soon as you arrange a prison transport to the freight ship leaving port this Friday.”

As Jim stuttered and tried to understand what was being said to him, his thoughts were reserved solely for that of his only daughter as the woman continued, the   
heat had lessened from her words and didn’t burn him through the phone’s receiver.

“Deliver Nikolo Skarsgard, Stanislaus Kitzner, Omar Desner, Carlos Lupitos and Kristoph Shaltzer to Pier 17 for the Friday 20:15 departure of the freighter Calypso Dreams.”

Jim finally found his words, “I can’t arrange their release, I don’t have that kind of authority,” he stammered. His heart dropped to his feet when the line went quiet. 

He thought he had just royally fucked up and killed his beloved daughter before the female chuckled lowly.

“Jim now is not the time for proper procedures and protocol, I will call you in twenty-four hours. I am confident a man of your station can arrange something. I know you love your daughter.”

“But, but, it’s only Monday, where is Lia until then? How will I know she’s safe?” Jim babbled as he left the kitchen and made a beeline for the three-car garage as the cultured voice gently stopped him from further stuttering and falling over his words. 

“Stand by your phone Commissioner, a video message from your little girl will be sent within the hour,” the female voice said before abruptly ending the call.

Gordon wept as Talia ended the call from where she stood less than twenty minutes away from his front door. She smiled down at her phone and looked out at the Gotham skyline before she dialed Bane.

Talia had grown to enjoy being the beautiful and generous Miranda Tate. She loved the wardrobe, chauffeurs in luxury cars, the penthouse suite and the parties where available billionaires tripped over themselves to just have her attention for a moment. 

Talia lifted the phone to her ear as the call connected. 

Bane answered with a grunt.

“He sounds angry,” Talia thought, not knowing he had seen her lustily riding the billionaire bat. 

“My friend,” she purred.

“Yes?”

“The commissioner is being demanding, I need you to make his little girl talk to the camera. He needs to see her alive.”

Bane remained wordless as he noted down the prisoner names and Gordon’s phone number. 

“Thank you my friend,” Talia murmured and ended the call before running a near-scalding bath with Bruce coming over later for a nightcap and marathon fuck. 

Bane stared down at the list of prisoner names. All men he had worked with side by side in liberations of monarchies, dictators, and warmongers. 

He yanked open the door that separated the two small rooms and made Lia flinch with the sudden sound and wash of stale air. 

“Say hello to your father.”

“What?!?” Lia cried out as she sat up. He ripped the blindfold off, and daylight blinded her, and she squinted against the solar onslaught.

She looked up and found Bane towering over her, holding a phone towards her. She found herself staring up at a fuzzy video of herself squinting up at herself.

“What?” she repeated lamely.

“Your father insists on seeing that you’re alive. Speak to your father, show him you have your mental faculties and the use of all your limbs,” Bane demanded tonelessly.

“Daddy,” Lia cried and reached for the phone. She stumbled forwards when Bane held the phone out of her reach.

“Sit back and speak,” he ordered.

Lia sat back and sniffed hard as she stared back at her crying face. 

“Dad, I miss you. Please save me, daddy….” Lia tried to say without her voice breaking until Bane’s open palm found her soft face and sharp cheekbone. 

Lia hit the ground hard as Bane continued filming and lowered the camera to capture the blood flowing from Lia’s mouth and nose as he repeated the five names.

“Nikolo Skarsgard Commissioner,” Bane said from off camera as he jerked Lia to a sitting position by her hair.

“Stanislaus Kitzner,” Bane said in a deeper, darker voice as he kept the camera trained on Lia’s face as he captured her suffering. 

“Omar Desner,” Bane growled as he let go of her hair until she slumped against the wall where she moaned incoherently as he slipped a couple of his fingers into her bloody mouth.

The sharp blow from his large palm to her smooth face had ripped open the inside of her cheek when the wet flesh smashed against her straight teeth. 

“Carlos Lupitos,” Bane said as he let the crappy camera record himself finger fuck her bloody mouth for her father’s benefit.

“Kristoph Shaltzer Commissioner or I’ll make every hole your daughter has bleed as I violate it.”

Hours away but moments after the video was filmed, Gordon stared down at the screen as the video ended and the next message that came in seconds later was the list of the five prisoner names and ID numbers.

Bane took his eyes away from Lia only long enough to send the video to Gordon as well as the follow-up message. 

He didn’t blink as he slipped his phone into his rear pocket, “good girl,” he murmured in musical approval. His eyes never left hers as he reached for another sugar-glazed pastry and squatted down in front of her. 

Lia managed to glare at him as she swallowed back a mouthful of blood. 

Bane smiled behind his mask and reached his free hand down to rub against the front of his pants. “I can reward myself for your good behavior if you’d prefer Miss Gordon.”

Lia went still and quiet as she opened her mouth the smallest amount for him to slide the sweetened dough into her sore mouth. 

“Good girl,” Bane whispered melodically as Lia swallowed more blood than dough.


	6. The Birth of Emotions and Watery Death of Glycerin

Bane let Lia slump into a fitful state of sleep and untied her hands before returning to the other room. 

While Bane continued watching Lia on the many flat screens, back at the Gordon home, Jim tried to keep his face set into that of a peaceful façade so Sara’s hysteria wouldn’t continue to climb. 

“Jim? Jim!” Sara began as fresh tears sprang to her eyes and she buried her face in her hands. 

“Sara, shhhhh, Sara,” Jim murmured as he gathered his wife in his arms, her shuddering form draped with a chenille bathrobe.

Jim smoothed her hair back from her face as he gripped her chin and made her meet his eyes. “I will bring Ophelia home; I need you to put your trust in me and not tell anyone about this.”

“But Jim?” Sara started before he pressed his fingers to her mouth and stopped her words.

They were alone in the kitchen, but he lowered his voice, nonetheless. “I need you to trust me Sara,” he reiterated until she nodded slowly, a barely perceptible movement of her chin. 

“Please go sit down, I’ll make you some tea,” Jim murmured and led Sara to the living room and tucked a plush afghan around her on the imported French linen covered loveseat. 

After Jim made Sara a hot mug of hibiscus tea with a heavy dollop of clover honey, he dumped two caplets of his insomnia prescription until it dissolved in the scalding sweetened tea. 

Jim nearly dropped his phone as he tapped out a phone number and waited for the call to connect. 

As the call reached its recipient and began to ring from another part in Gotham City, back in the isolated and insulated cabin, Bane was absorbed in watching the multiple HD screens of Lia sleeping, looking like a broken bird huddled on the hard floor, shivering as sleep tried to bring her a modicum of comfort. 

In the other room, Lia’s eyes moved behind her closed lids, the rapid eye movement indicative of her tumultuous mental state, simultaneously drowning in the ocean while burning from the inside out. 

While Bane watched on the screen, Lia’s eyes flew open, the irises streaked with redness as she half-crawled to the bucket before her bowels hotly released down the inside of her bare trembling thighs to splash on the floor. 

Harsh sobs wracked Lia’s body as she pressed one palm to her aching lower belly as another wave of nausea rolled through her before her bowels splashed the last of its contents on the floor.

Bane was on his feet before he registered and pushing open the door that separated them. He stomped towards her, not realizing he was being driven by a minute spark of concern that was birthed in his dark, cold core. 

Bane’s emotions and feelings were that of a scorched earth, nothing could grow in the soil post nuclear fallout. He was unaware of the new growth, that light was beginning to glow in the inky blackness of his heart, a place where the shadows knew your deepest fears and would eviscerate your soft belly with tears turned to glass. 

Lia tried to scramble away from Bane as he slowed his approach when his eyes fell on her pitiful shaking form covered in her own hot, loose body waste. 

In a moment composed of complete biocentrism, Bane raised his hands in front of him as he squatted down in front of her, his knees clicked loudly, not liking the strain on his joints.

Lia watched the large, masked man lower himself to where she was trying to disappear and felt so many shades of shame, embarrassment, and humiliation wash through her that she almost didn’t have room for fear. The pungent odor of her purged colon assaulted her nose and she finally settled for covering her face and turning her back towards him. 

Bane smiled behind his mask before rising back to his full height and disappearing from the room for a few minutes. 

Lia uncovered her face and looked over her shoulder when she heard him depart and then the sounds of clattering from the other room. 

She whipped her face back towards the wall when the sound of his returning footfalls grew louder.

Lia’s sobs turned to a startled shout when she felt the weight of the heavy, scratchy blanket land around her shoulders. 

Bane leaned down and closed a hand around her upper arm. He tried to imbue as much neutrality into his tone but still sounded like an apex predator singing a lullaby to its dinner as it still possessed a heartbeat. 

“You need to clean up Miss Gordon.”

Lia screamed and tried to get out of his ironclad grip that only grew stronger and tighter as she uselessly flailed her limbs. 

“Calm down Miss Gordon,” Bane murmured as Lia lost her footing on the floor grown slick with her shit. 

Lia let out a resigned groan and sagged in his grip.

She allowed him to help her to her feet and lead her to a padlocked door along with an armful of items he’d gathered from the extra room. 

Lia squinted her eyes as sunlight fell across her face when he pulled her outside the small cabin. 

That small sprout of warmth continued to grow inside Bane, and he found himself allowing her a few minutes to get her bearings. As he continued pulling her   
through the rock pitted trails and thick underbrush, back in Gotham City, Gordon’s call was picked up on the third ring. 

“Commissioner,” Blake answered with a salute in his tone. 

“Blake, I need you to stop by the house, I’ve got word of an assignment that’s a little off the books but needs to be expediated and discreet.”

“I’m on my way sir,” Blake said, and Gordon could hear the sounds of him slamming a car door and the ignition of his classic Mustang start. 

“This needs to be discreet,” Gordon reiterated before ending the call. He checked on Sara sleeping and added another afghan as he waited for Blake.

For the first time in years, Gordon crossed the kitchen and yanked open the cabinets above the stove and drank a quarter of the bottle of scotch. 

As Gordon let the alcohol leech into his body and soothe his frazzled nerves while he waited for Blake, hours away in the wooded area surrounding the isolated cabin, Bane continued to pull Lia down a deeply root-rutted pathway. 

Lia felt her eyes widen as she tried to focus on the uneven ground and look everywhere at once. “Where are we?” she gasped, slack-jawed at the spectacular surroundings of mountains, tall trees, and lush plant life. 

Bane ignored her question and yanked her to an abrupt stop at piles of smooth, warm rocks surrounding steaming pools of natural hot springs. “Where are we?” she repeated still absorbing the clear blue sky and bright yellow sun overhead. 

“A place for you to soak, no will bother you,” Bane from behind her and began to pull away the scratchy blanket draped over her. 

He held his breath as he got to the torn nightshirt that clung to her piss and shit covered body. Bane tugged gently at the tattered shirt until Lia broke her eyes away from the vast valleys created by violent volcanic explosions, the pyroclastic blasts giving birth to unmatched beauty as she gasped and stumbled away from him.

“No will bother you here,” he reiterated and couldn’t help but let his gaze wander over her exposed skin. “Would you like me to turn around?” he heard himself say and had to force himself from shaking his head.

Lia gave a shrug and nod at the same time and then mumbled, “yes.”

Bane nodded and turned until his back was to her. He was frowning and trying to understand why he offered such benevolence when he heard her shirt land with a soft thump on the flat, wet rock and then heard her splash into their private, near-scalding spacious bath. 

Bane turned and watched as she dunked herself under the hot water and watched her delicately pat at her bruised face.

Lia looked up as Bane tossed a square bar of soap into the water in front of her, closely followed by a muslin rag. 

She didn’t feel the water that splashed with the soap’s impact as she watched the frightening, masked man begin to strip off his own layers of clothes.

Bane kept his expression neutral as he watched Lia’s eyes widen and move her gaze over him. 

Lia traced her eyes up his calves and over his muscled thighs. She blushed as she directed her gaze at his cock hanging heavily between his legs before she quickly danced her eyes upwards to his broad upper chest and shoulders. 

Lia drank in his scarred forearms and heavily calloused rough hands. His nails were blunt, and his fingers bore no jewelry. She saved looking at his face for last, her breathing increased and her heart began to race as she raised her eyes to his face.

Bane watched as her pink tongue darted out and moistened her lips as she met his eyes. 

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“Clean up Miss Gordon,” Bane answered as he ignored her question and walked towards the water. Lia moved back in the water as he settled across from her. 

Bane would’ve sacrificed a goat to any god in gratitude when Lia didn’t make him repeat himself and instead snatched the chunk of soap from the water and began to scrub her hands.

His ability to speak was questionable as his eyes couldn’t help but watch the birth of translucent soap bubbles on her forearms and pop with any breath of her movement.


	7. Cheap Porno and Free* Advice

As Lia tried to focus on scrubbing her skin clean, hissing with pain each time the water or soap bit into her bruised body, hours away, back in the garage of the only home she’d known up to that point in her life, Jim Gordon opened the side door when Blake screeched his muscle car to a halt in the wide driveway.

“What do you need sir?” Blake said as soon as his foot crossed the threshold.

Gordon pinched the bridge of his nose and Blake suddenly noticed the commissioner’s bloodshot eyes and barely contained rage.

“What is it sir?”

Gordon closed and locked the side door before he spoke lowly even though the only ears that could hear, couldn’t speak. Gordon whispered urgently but the dust  
mites, termites and arachnid families heard every syllable he spoke.

A pregnant black widow listened from the rafters, the red hourglass on her shiny black abdomen was bloated with how close she was to spitting out her eight-legged progeny. 

“Any word of this leaks and you’ll put your gun and shield on my desk.”

Blake nodded as Gordon continued.

“Lia’s been abducted, I don’t know who exactly has taken her, but they sent me a ransom list.”

Blake held his breath and kept his expression completely neutral as Gordon allowed him to see the still images the abductor or abductors had taken of his daughter. 

He whistled lowly at some of the names that were demanded to be set free. The men on the list were not worth the skin they were printed on, no value even in harvesting their organs because they would be necrotic and full of poison.

Blake returned Gordon’s phone and clenched his hands into fists. “What do you need me to do sir?”

“I need you to bring my daughter home but we’re going to have to bypass some of the standard operating procedures.”

“Yes sir,” Blake said and felt a trill through his nervous system as his pituitary gland got all hot and bothered and hormonally stimulated him from his balls to the base of his brain. 

“Do you have some friends not on the force that can help you out? I don’t want anything unnecessarily tied to GPD.”

Blake couldn’t help but chuckle. “You really are a do-gooder sir; don’t you have a pocketful of CI’s that can get you anything in this fucking city?”

“No son, not a do-gooder, I’ve always operated within the law but now my little girl is missing and if I lose her, I’m afraid my wife won’t be able to come back from it.”

Blake’s humor evaporated and he gladly accepted the beer Gordon offered.

Gordon leap-frogged over an offer of a beer for himself and returned to the kitchen to continue emptying the potent booze. A quick glance at Sara, showed her face, smooth and slack from the pharmaceutical stranglehold in her spiked mug of tea. 

As Gordon logged into his computer and typed his access code into the main server of GPD. Blake was busying contacting friends he’d made in the Sandbox fighting someone else’s war. 

Blake lost many friends to dying for oil for a foreign government and had friends that returned with him, both physically and mentally incomplete, after finding the unintentional and intentional landmines. 

These group of men from Blake’s unit were men that declared themselves Patriots of the Homeland and lived for that only. Men that had had their humanity stripped from them as they were turned into a red, white, and blue war machine. 

Gordon watched Blake pace at the rear of the garage, the shiny rounded toe of his boot, kicked up small puffs of dust with each stomp.

Blake ended the call and returned to Gordon’s side and found a fresh beer waiting for him. Blake squinted at the screen that Gordon had displayed. “The last ping from Lia and her friend’s phones were rom here,” Gordon said and tapped a light blue blinking triangle that indicated the campgrounds. 

Blake drained the beer and belched loudly as he moved his eyes over the screen. 

“What’s your first move Hot Head?”

Blake smirked as he tapped the same blinking blue shape. “Let’s see if anything got left behind to find these fucks.”

Gordon felt his heart swell with pride as Blake tapped his phone frantically before returning his attention to Gordon. “I just got a whole lot of reinforcements that’ll meet us there,” Blake said excitedly.

Gordon gave Sara one last peek to ensure that she was still blissfully unaware of what was happening outside the swirling energy throughout her brain’s grey matter. 

Gordon slid onto the leather bench seat of the high-performance hot rod and headed over to Blake’s house. 

Blake backed the rear of the garage halfway into his garage before the two men loaded copious amounts sawed off shotguns, handguns and weapons that never made it to Gotham PD’s evidence room. 

As Gordon and Blake continued to load up Kevlar vests, explosives and tracking devices that were made by an enemy government but sold to the US at a great buy, hours away at the hot springs, Lia swirled her arms slowly and watched with disgust as bigger pieces of waste rose to the surface. 

She coughed wetly and spit out a glob of yellowish phlegm as Bane continued to watch her, complete impassivity on the visibility of his exposed features.

Bane settled back again a hot rock that had been blessed with the sun’s touch as Lia ran her trembling fingers through her wet, tangled hair. He could see the many snarls and even a small twig that had hitched a ride on the now wet strands.

As Bane settled his hands under the water to rest on top of his thighs, having to clench his hands into fists so that he didn’t try and pluck the stick from her hair, hours, and hours away in Gotham City. 

Miranda Tate adjusted her lipstick after Bruce filled her with come and then returned to the party.

Talia regarded her reflection a moment, her cheeks were rosy, and her lips swollen from trying to devour Bruce’s face as he fucked her harder with each thrust.

Miranda left the elegant bathroom and paused to root for a small round container of some very addictive pain pills. She had a bad bout with her sciatica flareup and fell head over heels in love with the seductive kiss of the opiates.

As she let one of the round, yellow tablets dissolve under tongue she noticed two men arguing in an adjacent doorway.

Miranda closed her purse and slid a little lower while staring at the two arguing men.

Miranda’s burgundy painted lips pulled into a wide smile as Phillip Stryver and John Daggett came into focus.

She strained her ears and could only catch a few words and phrases.

“Girl…..here……paid…..now..,” John said with gritted teeth.

“Complications….no flights now……different buyer,” Phillip countered.

“I paid for her…….how much more……she was mine!”

“I know, I’m s……,” Phillip started to babble.

“You’re so….? You th…..,” John began to screech until his face was as red as a ripe tomato, the skin just about ready to burst. 

Talia heard just enough and in that moment, spontaneously created a solid, can’t fail, Plan B in her head.

“Gentlemen,” Miranda said loudly in her cultured tone.

Both men turned and watched as she appeared to them as the goddess Venus walking towards them, glowing in her freshly fucked state. 

“Gentlemen,” she purred.

“Ms. Tate, I do hope you’re enjoying the festivities,” John Daggett said grandly and held out his arms, leaving Miranda whether he wanted a hug or kneel of penitence.

Talia settled on a saccharin sweet smile as she tilted her head and extended her bejeweled right hand. 

John Daggett pressed his reptilian lips against her hand before Striver placed his own lips on the sloppy seconds of the top of her hand.

“It’s stunning Mr. Daggett, the ice sculptures in particular are just lovely.”

Daggett smiled his own powerful CEO business eviscerating, rabid wolf in sheep’s clothing smile as Miranda linked arms with him and leaned down to whisper lowly and conspiratorially in his ear. 

“Mr. Daggett, I’ve been doubly blessed in a recent bout of a very lucrative financial opportunity that may now make my bank account in Zurich and your…… wallet very pleased,” she finally added as she gingerly danced her fingers up the front of his trousers.

Daggett cleared his throat and motioned for Stryver to disappear before he loudly cleared his throat again, not entirely trusting his words.

“Go on, please Ms. Tate.”

As Miranda began to explain that an associate of hers had somehow managed to get Commissioner’s Gordon daughter out from under his nose and since it was very unlikely any of the criminal masterminds from her list would be released. It was very certain that John Daggett was the Epstein of his era and loved purchasing underage girls for his well-known and well-safeguarded and secreted Worldwide Stables.

Hours back in the hot springs as Lia finally felt most of the grime and gunk float away from her body in the near-scalding pool of water, she didn’t feel her ears burning as Talia filled Daggett’s ear and inflated his sexual desire for Lia until it could’ve burst. 

Daggett was enthralled with each of Talia’s syllables through her full red wine-colored lips, she exuded a tantalizing truth in her freshly fucked state as Bruce’s billionaire semen still dripped from her wet hole. 

Miranda could still see that even Daggett would’ve come if she had even pretended was going to just sniff his dick, it was still the weight of a federal crime and exposure of an enterprise built with a foundation of cement, blood, and murder for hire. 

Miranda looked around and found the two of them alone on the plush carpet. “She’s a virgin.”

Daggett visibly paled in the low light and he swallowed hard. 

“Can I see her first?”

Miranda smiled and let liquid sex and submission fill her eyes. In that moment she was thirty years too old for Daggett to make his dick hard, but he saw the devotion in her eyes which stroked his microcephalic ego. 

“Wait right here,” she murmured huskily and left Daggett to his racing thoughts that ran in tandem with his pounding heart and simmering lust. 

As Talia left Daggett to his bought and paid for fantasies, she pulled her phone from her boutique clutch bag and dialed Bane’s burner.

In the small space of time before the call connected, Bane gritted his teeth behind his mask as Lia turned her back to him and ducked down until the water washed over head for a few seconds. 

His phone rang once and Lia paused as she turned back towards him, water falling off her face as their eyes met. 

Bane held her eyes as the phone gave a shrill third ring.

Lia held her breath as he picked up the phone and grunted a greeting before it sound for a fourth time.

“My friend,” Talia purred when Bane picked up the call.

Bane grunted again but felt a spike in one of his heart valves as her words pierced him. 

Bane realized as Talia plodded on, that the sounds and nuances of each of her syllables had changed somehow, had begun to rot around the edges and held the aroma of rotting sweetness.

As Talia spoke, Bane kept his glued to Lia, keeping her caught in the intensity of his stare.

“Gordon will never let those soldiers free, those men of honor. I’ve drained their accounts and cleared out all the information I wanted from GPD.”

“And?” Bane simply asked, not blinking as Lia’s breathing grew shallow and she wished she could disappear as the hulking masked man kept the phone pressed to his ear. The plastic device looked like a toy in his large grasp. 

“We can make more money if we sell the girl to Daggett.”

Bane lost his concentration at Talia’s words and blinked. He didn’t have to ask her to repeat herself because she continued at will. 

“Daggett will pay top dollar to make her his whore of the month, get her cleaned up and send some pictures that will seal the sale to that billionaire lech, make sure she’s a virgin. I told Daggett she was, send those pictures within the hour, I’ll be in touch,” she said before she abruptly ended the call. 

Miranda found Daggett on the balcony, practically coming in his pants like a teenager when Miranda said she’d have some pictures of his possible new acquisition within the hour for his approval.

Talia felt her anger flare; she was suddenly a peacock in full bloom when Daggett started shaking his head as Miranda began discussing prices.

“No, no, no Ms. Tate, money isn’t an issue.”

“Then what is it Mr. Daggett?” Miranda tried to say without clenching her teeth.

“I want to see her in person, I want to inspect the merchandise myself.”

“Dr. Daggett, how do you plan on inspecting the potential product?”

Daggett laughed, “don’t be silly dear, I’m not going to try and poke it, I just want to make sure it’s who you say it is and that it’s viable. I’ve got some plans in mind for this one,” he added in a husky whisper.

Phillip Stryver slithered into view and opened his jacket to show a short-barreled .38 and wordlessly supported Daggett’s veiled threats.

Miranda smiled and tried to not let herself shine through. She dipped her head. “I understand completely, I’m asking for a lot of your trust. You’d like to see her?” Daggett felt his chest swell with perceived strength and nodded.

Miranda pressed her lips together and she looked down at her diamond encrusted watch. 

‘It’ll take me a few hours to get a transport together. Pack a bag for a couple nights in case we need it, anything you feel you’ll need, it’s a long drive and hike,” Miranda said to the two men.

Daggett rolled his eyes, “I’ve got a plane Ms. Tate, just tell my pilot where the nearest runway is.”

“Your planes won’t work there Mr. Daggett, it’s a long drive and hike to where your merchandise is being held.”

Daggett and Stryver glanced at each other. 

“Fine Ms. Tate,” Phillip finally said, breaking his silence. “When should we expect you?”

Miranda smiled widely, keeping her carnivorous core hidden behind her straight, white teeth and full, shapely red lips. 

“I’ll be back in two hours gentlemen,” Miranda said as she left the men to their own thoughts and plans. 

Talia quickly dialed Bane back, stomping to the rear door of her high-end SUV that her driver held open. 

Back in the hot water, the phone once again distorted the moment and Bane had a fleeting thought to smash it on the rocks. 

Bane waited until the first ring ended and through the entirety of the second as he watched Lia scrape dirt from under her nails, avoiding the finger with the torn away nail and raw bed.

Bane answered with another unintelligible grunt as Talia began speaking the moment the call connected. 

“Daggett wants to see her in person, I’m going to head out in a few hours,” Talia started and couldn’t see the clash of loyalty, duty, service in his eyes when he found himself staring at a woman who was creating confusion. 

Talia didn’t give Bane a chance to say the wrong thing as she prattled on with her list of demands. 

“Clean up the commissioner’s daughter, make her look presentable,” she said before she lowered her voice and added in a croaked whisper. 

“Find out if she’s a virgin, Daggett thinks that’s what he is buying. We’ll be there in a day.”

“We?” Bane finally asked.

He could hear Talia’s aggravation in her sigh. “He’s bringing Stryver and couple paid muscle who wear Valentino suits, not warriors.”

Bane grunted, assuring Talia he would do whatever was necessary and whatever she asked twice. 

“Thank you my friend,” she purred before she ended the call. 

Bane kept the phone pressed to the side of his face as he stared at Lia as she reached down in the water to scrub between her toes. 

He set the phone back on the warm, wet rock and made Lia nearly stumble with his sudden question. 

“Who are you Ophelia Serena Gordon?”

As Bane’s musical statement seemed to waterboard Lia’s ability to speak, hours away in Gotham, Talia threw a couple grey canvas bags into the back of a paneled van, splashed with the bright the logo of a popular florist.

Talia’s eyes fell on a half-zipped bag that didn’t belong to her. She held her breath and snaked free the pack of cigarettes that were peeking through the canvas flap. She inhaled deeply on the organic blended cigarette and opened the bag further and pawed through its contents. She pushed passed matched socks and shirts. Her eyes widened when her manicured nails brushed a bottle shoved in between two folded pairs of jeans. 

Talia squinted at the low-rent label but unscrewed the cap of shitty cabernet and took a few acidic swallows before the sound of a low grunt interrupted her. She tiptoed around the side of the pink floral van and found a fresh-faced, nameless militant watching free porn on his smart phone. Talia bit her lip as the young man was stroking his cock that was as hard as the rifle of his machine gun. 

She squinted and saw the screen was filled with a shaved cunt yawning open, being drilled by two dicks. 

Talia cleared her throat and couldn’t help but chuckle as the man dropped his phone to the cement but was still serenaded by the blonde screaming out her first orgasm when another dick appeared and disappeared up her ass. 

“Don’t turn it off,” Talia ordered lowly and began walking towards the armed man with the heaving chest. 

As she grew closer, he fumbled at his cock that had fallen to half-mast and tried to shove it back behind his zipper.

“Don’t put that away either,” she growled and took a long swallow of the low-quality wine.

The man froze as Talia spit the mouthful of warm wine over his softened cock. His breath hitched when her full, luscious lips slid up his softened cock and began bobbing her head with a frequency that his cock had to rise. 

His eyes fell to his phone which was still playing, loudly.

He felt a surge as he matched his movements to the man on the screen that was drilling the bottle-blonde’s throat. 

While Talia buried her mouth around the armed kid, she snaked a free hand to slide down the front of her skirt and panties.

She was brimming with too many emotions to think clearly and knew opiates and alcohol would make her too sleepy, too vulnerable.

Talia rubbed her sensitive slit furiously until her cunt leaked juice which she used to slide a couple fingers into her tight hole. She felt her rectum clench and a near spasm in her left calf as she soaked her panties and came so hard she might’ve stumbled if she wasn’t already practically sitting. 

Talia became aware of the random cock she was sucking and after letting herself have a minute to bask in the orgasmic afterglow, pulled a .45 handgun from her inner thigh holster and shot the man above her while his cock was buried in her mouth. 

Talia rose to her feet and retrieved the fallen fuck boy’s phone. She reapplied a thick layer of burgundy lipstick as the video ended with the blonde walking through a veritable waterfall of semen.

Talia returned to packing and called another random man to clear the still warm body before checking the oil and tire pressure. As she continued getting everyone together and outlining the route and approach, hours away at the destination being discussed, Lia cleared her throat but found she couldn’t break eye contact with him as he repeated his question. 

“Who are you Ophelia Serena Gordon?”


	8. Fallen Bird from a High-Born Nest

Bane pressed his lips together behind his mask as Lia looked around the vast forest and rocky cliffs surrounding them. “I’m taking pre-med classes, I’m moving to the Midwest for the fall semester and ……,” she managed before her voice broke. She realized she had no idea if she would live to see the sun set, let alone look to a future.

He settled deeper in the water and flexed his strong hands. 

“Tell me about your mother, Sara.”

“What do you want to know? Her parents are uber-wealthy and bought her the house we have and dad’s new SUV. They’re going to pay my college tuition.”

Lia tried to settle her breathing into a remotely normal rhythm as Bane regarded her silently.

He broke the silence before she nearly peed in the hot water. 

“Your father, what kind of man is your father?”

“He’s a good man, fair,” Lia said and sniffed hard as she imagined how he must be scrambling resources. She pictured Jim Gordon on a shiny coated stallion with   
chainmail and a horned mask. She imagined her father cresting a hill and saving her. 

Bane settled deeper in the water and began to move towards her. Lia flinched and tried to awkwardly pedal away from him. “That’s enough,” he growled as his hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her steady. 

Lia held her breath as Bane retrieved the pale chunk of soap and after forcing a large amount of suds with his hand’s friction, began to clean her hair and scalp. 

Lia’s breathing became shallow and she let her eyes close as Bane’s rough fingertips moved through her tangled hair and cleaned the dried blood off her pale skin. 

“Tell me of the boy we found with you in your tent,” Bane demanded melodically as his ragged cuticles caught strands of her hair and tugged at her scalp. 

“There’s not a lot to tell, we went to the same school, he plays, played football,” she trailed off and tried to slide away from Bane as she recalled Matt’s life ended so abruptly and the cascading events since. 

Bane yanked Lia back towards him rougher than he needed to and had to end up catching her or she would’ve splashed into the water. 

Lia gave a deep inhale and turned into an instant statue as his arms closed around her and helped her upright until she could find balance on her shaky feet.

Bane stared down at the crown of her head and squeezed her arm until she gasped. “Stop the antics,” he growled, “or you can spend every remaining moment of your life in chains.”

Lia couldn’t nod fast enough and tried to hide her shaking hands by vigorously rubbing the chunk of soap before washing her pale face until it squeaked with cleanliness.

She paused as she splashed water on her face when his question filled her ear.

“Were you and the young man going to consummate your relationship in the tent that night?”

Lia managed to blush but remained wordless.

“Chains Ms. Gordon. Chains for the rest of your life,” Bane said with en emptiness that made her bowels feel like they were filled with hot, burning looseness. 

Lia nodded rapidly, drops of water flying from her nose with the ferocity of her head’s movement. “Yes, Matt and I had planned on making that night mean something.”

Bane watched her scrub the tops of her hands and forearms as he shifted in the water until he was submerged deeper but could see more of her face as he spoke. 

“Tell me of what you and the young man had planned.”

Lia paused as she scrubbed her neck and shoulders. “Just sex I guess, nothing much else. I took a bottle of scotch from my parents stash,” she added and splashed water on her soapy neck. 

Bane chuckled. The raw melody startled Lia and she gasped as their eyes met.

“You must’ve had more creative plans than that Ms. Gordon. Tell me of what you planned when that young man was dry humping you and whispering wet promises in your ear.”

Lia settled deeper in the water until the surface of the hot water teased the soft bottom of her ear lobes before she stumbled over her words. “I went to one of those   
sex stores and bought some lingerie and some really nice desserts to go with the alcohol. He was going to bring some candles,” she trailed off and turned in the water until he had to watch her run her fingers through her tangled hair, working the strands straight. 

Lia’s fingers froze in her wet fall of hair as his question washed against her back like a fast-moving tsunami. 

“What kind of lingerie did you purchase to wear for the young man?”

Lia cleared her throat as she resumed tugging the tangled strands apart. “It was almost like a swimsuit really, just hot pink.”

“A swimsuit?”

“Mmmm hmmmm,” Lia mumbled as she finally began to make progress on getting the strands untangled.

“You essentially bought a swimsuit at a sex store and it’s like any other swimsuit but hot pink?”

Lia wordlessly nodded and scrubbed her nails for the third time as he moved around her in the water until he could once again see her face as he continued. “You could wear this pink swimsuit in public? You could wear it to the swim center as the beginner child’s class is in session and the mayor is present watching his granddaughter dog paddle with purple water wings?”

Lia stared down at her fingers that resembled prunes from the continuing lengthy soak. She shook her head but otherwise remained wordless and kept her eyes downcast. 

Lia was surprised when a musical chuckle fell from his masked face, the foreign sound used his vocal cords in a way that had been dormant for decades. The melodic amusement caused him to cough, each hack sounded like raw flesh grating against glass.

Lia flinched at the painfully wet sounds as he fumbled with a few dials and switches at the base of his mask. 

She raised a hand to cover a gasp as he breathed deeply and eventually the violent coughing subsided, the veins on his neck remained close to the surface, threatening to burst through his skin. 

Bane’s eyes cleared of stinging, involuntary tears, before he narrowed his gaze at Lia as she stood frozen in the water up to her shivering shoulders despite the water   
temperature. 

“Why did you chose to give your body to that boy?” he whispered, his voice rough from the pulmonary spasms. 

Lia’s mouth fell open at his question. “He’s a nice guy, safe, kind,” she murmured and looked away from him. 

Bane smiled behind his mask. “Did your plans with the young man move through the future. College? Family?”

Lia shrugged, “he hadn’t decided where to apply yet.”

Bane nodded and rapidly changed the subject. “Are you properly cleaned up?”

“I guess,” she answered with another shrug.

Bane walked out of the water, his body angled away from her, his nudity barely obscured as he pulled clean clothes over his damp skin.

He turned and held out a shirt towards her. 

Lia looked at the shirt and then him. “Can you please turn around?” she breathed.

Bane narrowed his eyes, he needed to report to Talia any visible imperfections before she arrived with her buyers and their paid muscle. “Not this time,” he said in a   
low tone as he shook his head.

Lia bit her lip as she slowly walked out of the steaming pool. She reached for the shirt Bane was holding and nearly tripped when he pulled it out of her reach at the last possible second.

Lia tossed her head forward until the loose, tangled fall of her hair nearly hid her breasts.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Bane said strongly to cover any possible tremor in his voice. “I don’t desire you, but I’d fuck you for fun,” he growled as he walked around her in slow circles. 

Lia avoided his eyes as he continued his lazy path around her cowering, naked form. 

Bane moved his eyes over the bare curves of her body, he could see how she was considered a delicious cunt. He felt a cloud of anger at that fool Daggett putting his slimy hands on her body. He had the thought of ripping Daggett’s cock off when he arrived and stating that Lia was no longer for sale. 

As if on cue, his phone chirped with an incoming message and he read a laundry list of instructions to prepare for Daggett’s arrival. Bane slid the phone in his pocket as he returned his full attention to Lia. 

Her vulnerability excited him and fanned the flames of protection, someone he could help. Bane’s eyes memorized her smooth naked skin, she was not a warrior. 

“How come you haven’t traded your delectable cunt to get ahead like your privileged friend did? You have to have a men lined up ready to do anything for your purity.”

“You’re disgusting,” Lia couldn’t help but sneer and tried to cover her nudity.

Bane slipped back out of his heavy shearling jacket and held it open towards her.

Lia glanced up through barely open eye lids as he walked towards her with the soft coat held open.

“Miss Gordon, your chastity is the reason you’re still alive. Please accompany me back inside without a fight.”

Lia let him pull the large coat around her, the fabric swallowing her, the heady masculinity mixed with aerosol inhalants filled her nose.

Lia followed him back to the small cabin and watched in complete mortification as he cleaned up her mess. Bane never once spoke or flicked his expression from that of total neutrality.

Lis watched him discard the filthy rags before dragging an air mattress in and covering it with stretched out sheets. She waited until he began a fire to speak.

“What did you mean out there?”

Bane added a few more sticks before he turned towards her. The shadows of the flames danced on her pale face and full lips.

“You would’ve ceased to live if your chastity wasn’t intact.”

Lia felt her knees go weak and sank to the dingy sheets.

“What does that have to do with my parents’ money?”

“We milked as much as we could, your mother’s account is locked up in an off-shore account and will take too much time to access. You however, there are many buyers for you.”

“Buyers?” she asked and felt a twist of nausea in her gut as hot bile raced up her throat.

Bane nodded, “they’re on their way.”

Lia began to hyperventilate, as her limbs and lips went numb and she stood up too fast.

“No! NO?!? No,” she screeched as shock took over and adrenalin filled every space between her rushing red blood cells. 

Bane caught her as she flailed. He was patient as he carefully trapped all of her limbs and confined her fighting until she was drained of energy and sagged against him. 

He lifted her near dead weight and settled them both on the poorly made air mattress. Bane tugged her hips back against him until he could spoon her, his body swallowing her with its formability.

Lia pressed her face against the sheet as her hot tears flowed freely. “Please, please don’t do this to me, I’ll do anything,” she whispered lowly.

Bane smoothed a large hand to span her belly and eliminate any space between them as he tugged her back flush against him. 

“What is it that you can do Miss Gordon?” he murmured and felt her huff in indignation. 

Bane felt a swell of anger that he gave a fuck for any kind of comfort for her and slipped his hand down the front of her belly to cup her naked pussy. “What do have of value besides this untouched cunt?” he growled and moved with inhuman speed as he pushed her onto her back. 

Lia screamed, his insults making her angrier than afraid. She pulled back her foot and tried to kick him.

Bane growled as the heel of her foot thumped against his shoulder. She cried out in shock as he closed his hand around her ankle and quickly captured the other. 

He felt his lust began to pulse to life as she squirmed futilely under him and cried out as he held her legs far apart until his eyes could memorize every shade in the pink folds of her pussy. Bane salivated behind his mask and he licked his scarred lips as he longed to tear his pants open and bury himself without grace to the hilt inside her delicate, untouched center. 

“Tell me Miss Gordon,” he said on a musical choke as he shifted his hold on her and threw one of her legs over his shoulder so he could have a free hand to touch her exposed, vulnerable femininity. 

“Tell me what you’re worth,” he said on a rasp as he smoothed his hand up the supple flesh of her inner thigh. 

Lia gasped and flinched when he laid his hand over her spread open pink pussy. He moved his palm in slow circles, the hard knot of her clit growing harder with each revolution. 

Lia shook her head, “nothing,” she finally said.

Bane slowed the movement of his palm. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Lia shouted with a spurt of energy, a drop of spit flying from her lips to hit the front of his mask. “I’m worth nothing to someone like you.”

Bane raked his eyes lavisciously down her body. “You’re a highborn princess who fell from her Ivory Tower. I found you and can now claim you as my own,” he rasped.


	9. Care

As Lia’s breath failed to properly inflate her lungs, the cones and rods of her eyes began to create a dual image of the masked man staring down at her, hours, and hours away at the only home she’d known for her whole life, her mother Sara, continued to snore on the sofa. Gordon had turned on the TV to a daytime talk show where the gaggle of women often ended up sounding like chickens with an occasional rooster crow sounding as a referee.

As Sara snored, deeply asleep under the powerful sleeping pills, Gordon packed a grey duffle bag with a few articles of clothing in his bedroom as he dialed some friends of his who had failed the psych test to be a law enforcement officer and now did jobs for cash. Lucrative, short-term jobs which usually ended in a felony assault, attempted murder, or successful manslaughter. 

Gordon paced around Blake’s car, wringing his hands as he kept looking over the photos and videos Lia’s abductor had sent. He tried to put on his policeman glasses and watch the video objectively and for clues but all he could see and hear was Lia’s fear. 

He flinched and shoved his phone back in his pocket when Blake reappeared with the stuffed, zippered bag and tossed it in the backseat. 

“Ready to go commissioner?”

Blake continued at Gordon’s blank expression. 

“We’ve got to pick up our reinforcements sir.”

“Where’s that?”

“St. Catherine’s Cathedral soup kitchen.”

Blake held up a hand as he started the car, the loud engine roared to life as it slurped the high-octane fuel.

“They’ve served twelve tours to The Sandbox between them. They came back and the government tossed them out, denied benefits. They have a bed and hot food there until someone legitimate will give them a chance.”

Gordon nodded. He had seen the PTSD effects too much to ever get used to. The dead eyes and haunted souls returning to be ignored instead of welcomed by their government.

Blake and Gordon left towards the massive cathedral, a warm lunch would be being prepared and ready to serve to the line of men and women waiting in the brisk air. 

As Blake circled the block a couple times until he could spy his friends, hours away, Lia blinked slowly at the fearsome, masked man’s words. 

“You’re worth much to many people, some are out looking for you and others are on their way here now,” Bane said on a ragged exhale as he added. “But I have you in my possession before anyone else, I can do as I please.”

“What does that mean?” Lia managed, letting out the smallest relieved breath that he hadn’t continued invading her body.

Bane let his eyes bleed to neutral as he spoke lowly, his words were spoken on a musical tone, but the aria was composed entirely of pain and suffering. 

“Your father would sell the heavens and earth for your return, a billionaire is being escorted here to see if he would like to buy you, there is a lot of money up for grabs, all because of who you are,” he murmured as he lightly pressed the rough tip of his index finger on her nose.

Bane smiled behind his mask at her renewed discomfort as he traced his finger over his full lips, down the front of her throat and eventually sternum, pausing on the hardened cartilage of her xiphoid process between her ribs. 

Lia reached for his wrist as he moved his hand down to slide over her naked, pink femininity.

“Your value lies in more than just this,” he growled and made Lia freeze as he slid his finger shallowly into her pussy, past the soft wet folds and paused at the thin membrane that would steal her purity. 

Lia felt stress override her thought process and she scoffed up at him, taking a small sliver of pleasure in the confusion that filled his warm, rich pupils. 

Bane paused the small, circular movements of his finger and slid it out of her inner wetness. Lia thought she had scored a victory; she didn’t realize she was digging herself a bottomless grave. She couldn’t help but let the innate smug expression of the rich and pampered distort her beautiful features.

Bane felt a wash of anger tingle up his spine as she chuckled and muttered something too low for even his Venom-enhanced hearing. 

Bane began tracing his fingers up and down her slit, alternatingly pinching and pulling her wet, feminine folds until her heart was beating frantically inside her chest, as if her heart were an eagle inside a cage made for a delicate golden finch. 

He waited to speak until he was moving his thumb in tight, furious circles over her clit, determined to force her to come at his touch. 

“What did you say Miss Gordon?” he murmured, hearing her breath quicken and her thighs begin to shake. Bane saw her deep frown and knew she was wishing she could stop the increasing sensitivity he was coaxing to her intimate flesh. 

Lia shook her head and wasn’t able to even make a squeak when Bane closed his free hand around her slim neck and pressed just enough to get her attention. She tried to focus on his return stare as involuntary tears began to fill her eyes.

“What did you say?” he insisted and moved his eyes down to where he was teasing her clit. He growled as his next exploration of her shell-pink folds were now slick with the moisture he had coaxed from her. “What did you say?” he repeated in a tone that warned her not to make him ask again as he teased open her pussy lips to reveal her vulnerable center. 

Lia glared at him and gritted her teeth to stop from gasping at the electrical twinges he was creating at the apex of her thighs. 

She had a foolish moment of feeling over overconfident. Lia’s ego remembered shouting at strangers from the highest turret of her ivory tower. Lia spit at him, “you can’t do anything to me before that, that, that woman arrives,” she finally sneered. Lia was banking on the fact that this masked psychopath couldn’t hurt her too irreparably since the sale depended on her not being further diminished in value.

Lia narrowed her eyes up at the hulking madman and smirked when he lifted his hand from her intimacy before he whispered in an eerily empty tone that frightened Lia to the core. The primitive sound was reminiscent to the early language after crawling out the muck of primordial ooze and becoming bipedal.

A pathetic squeal slipped from Lia’s lips as Bane snapped his fingers in front of her face and spoke lowly, on a voice that sounded choked with daggers, speaking through thickened, arterial blood. 

“I can fuck you and devalue you just like that,” he breathed as he brought his face to hers until the tip of her nose was pressed against the titanium mesh over his mouth. Lia held her breath as his voice took on an eerie quality. “Then the arriving party can decline the purchase and I’ll break your neck and throw your body over the falls,” he added in a simple melodic tone. “It’s time to be done with these childish games and truly bring the city to its knees.”

Lia felt her eyes widen as her tears froze in fear when he gripped her chin and made her meet his eyes when he added in a tone that only the near dead could hear. 

“You’re a silly distraction that I’d just as soon end now.”

Bane surprised himself the most when rich laughter bubbled up in his core, genuine amusement at Lia’s impertinence within the situation. His chronic pain that wasn’t always masked by the Venom felt a quiver of wanton lust as he moved his hands over her nearly naked body, her nudity warm from the flames licking away at the oak log burning on the fireplace grate. 

Lia grew as still as a pillar of salt as the masked man’s rough hands moved over her body, handling her aggressively as though he was assessing a prized animal before he sent it to the slaughterhouse. She was a newly hatched chick in a chicken processing center, she’d go from an infant chick to the slaughterhouse within forty-five minutes after being burst forth from an egg. 

Lia began muttering disagreeable noises as his large hands smoothed up her legs and squeezed her full thighs, palpated her hips, and massaged the rounded flesh of her belly. Bane’s amusement filled his scarred lungs and the sound of it emitting musically from his mask was more frightening of a sound than his threats Lia thought as he slid one hand up to cradle the back of her skull, his ragged cuticles becoming snagged on the tangled strands of her hair. 

As Bane continued to bask in Lia’s rising sounds of distress and fear, hours away from Gotham City, Talia, Daggett and Stryver all sat comfortably in the back of his Town Car as one of Talia’s paid enforcers steered the luxury vehicle closer to where Lia was being held.

Talia watched Daggett over the rim of her cut crystal glass as she sipped her aged cognac. 

Daggett had his lips pursed as he stared down at the very large number that Talia had written on a pastel pink sheet of paper. 

Stryver peeked over his shoulder at the still frames Bane had sent Talia earlier. 

“Miss Tate, this is a lot of money,” Daggett finally said.

“Miranda, please call me Miranda,” she purred and gently laid her hand on top of Daggett’s scrawny thigh and squeezed as she continued speaking. “I shouldn’t be telling you this,” she started and dropped her voice to a conspiratorial tone. “But this is a daughter of someone prominent that has personally made life in Gotham difficult for you.”

Daggett was hanging on Miranda’s every word as she tapped her sculpted acrylic nail on the phone’s surface. “That little girl belongs to Commissioner Jim Gordon.”  
Daggett felt a jolt run through the short length of his microcephalic cock at being able to fuck the daughter of the man that broken up many of his trading rings around the city for drugs, women, ammunition, and stolen diamonds. 

“You’re certain?” Stryver breathed from next to Daggett.

Miranda smiled widely, displaying her brilliant white teeth and sharp canines. “Mr. Daggett, I’m offering her to you before anyone else.”

Daggett loved the feeling of Miranda being penitent towards him, bowing and scraping in front of him. 

“I still want to see her first.”

“Of course Mr. Daggett, of course,” Miranda purred and sat back in the smooth leather seat. She let her thighs casually part enough until Stryver could see up the length of her gown. She had discarded her panties before getting into the town car and he had a clear view of her shaved cunt. 

Stryver’s eyes stayed glued to Miranda’s high society slit as the trio continued on the long car ride. Daggett continued to drink a barrel-aged scotch until he passed out and was soon drooling on the leather seat.

Miranda refilled her glass and shifted on the seat as her pussy began to grow moist with Stryver’s attention. 

Miranda knew the second she met Stryver that he was the Achilles heel of Daggett Industries, he appeared so pale, meek, and nearly hobbled from the lack of intimate contact.

She set her glass aside briefly and help Phillip locked in her eyes as she slid out of her designer gown. Miranda left on her five-inch spiked heels as she retrieved her glass and crouched down as she moved across the car and straddled Stryver’s lap. 

She reached down and assertively pulled down his zipper and soon had his cock out and was methodically stroking it until it was stiff. Miranda poured the contents of her straight cognac over her bare breasts, drops of alcohol dripped off the ends of her hard, dusky pink nipples. 

“Taste me Phillip,” Miranda purred as she spit on her hand before she gripped his cock and guided it inside her wet center.

Stryver could count on one hand the amount of woman that he had been with intimately. His brain couldn’t process the elegant, benevolent, and philanthropic 

Miranda Tate bouncing on his cock and moaning lustily. Her round, alcohol covered tits bounced in his face and he came in record time, spitting a few spurts of hot, sticky cum inside her. 

Miranda cupped Phillip’s face as his eyes began to lose focus and cross. She smiled as she felt his cock soften and slide out of her, leaving a trail of slimy spilled sperm on the fabric of his tailored clacks. 

Miranda wiped the booze off her breasts, smiling to herself at how captivated Phillip was at the sight of her bare cunt, that he didn’t see her casually drop a sedative into the glass. 

She wiped her inner thighs clean and put on a pair of sturdy cargo pants and long-sleeved thermal shirt before sitting back and looking over the two passed out men. 

Talia settled into the passenger seat as the paid muscle kept the accelerator pressed to the floor and made the powerful engine devour the miles to the isolated cabin.

She glanced over at the man whose name she didn’t know and spoke to him in a dead language, directing him to take the next left turn and continue to the top of the mountain that ended with sand-colored boulders, overlooking a deep tree-lined crevasse. 

As the driver nodded and took the turn when it came up, at the cabin that was their eventual destination, Lia began to shriek and struggle, renewed by a stored cache of energy when Bane let his weight press her harder against the unforgiving floor. 

“Stop, you can’t do this, you’re not allowed to,” Lia shouted as his crushing weight forced her thighs as far apart as they could under him. She gasped as he hooked his hands behind her knees and yanked her flush against his body. 

Bane’s laughter rumbled through his broad chest and his eyes seemed to look inside her as he smoothed a hand up her trembling side and squeezed her tit hard, yanking and pulling on the supple flesh as though it wasn’t attached to her body.

“I don’t need your compliance or permission. In fact, I’d prefer you struggle, makes it a more satisfying catch,” Bane growled as he pinched her nipple until it tingled with encroaching numbness. 

Bane enjoyed watching the evolution of Lia’s fear pass over her face, he knew somewhere inside that she was right and that he was not allowed to fuck her, but he needed her to think that the rules didn’t apply to him. 

He shifted and felt his balls tighten and pull up close to his body as his hardening rigidity pressed into her inner thigh.

Bane reached a hand briefly to a greenish-yellow knob at the base of his skull where the mask was fused and turned the dial, inhaling sharply as a fresh flood of   
Venom and secondary narcotic wave washed over him, making Lia’s low whispers and sighs amplified in their vulnerable intensity. 

Lia clawed at the front of his mask when he smoothed a hand down between the scant space between the press of their naked skin and gripped his hardening length. 

He easily batted away her flailing hands and captured her wrists with one hand and slammed them to the floor above her as he smoothed the sensitive head of his cock in slow circles over her clit before tracing a path up and down her slit, moving through the blush pink folds. 

“You can’t do this,” she screeched and strained uselessly against his unbreakable hold. “Don’t you care about what’s going to happen?

Bane licked his scarred lips behind his mask as he stared down at her, his breathing growing more labored as he wanted to plunge himself inside her to the hilt. 

“Care?” he grunted as he teased the plump, glossy head of his cock against her tight entrance as he tried to control his breathing before answering her. “Care is not something a warrior has time for, there is no time for caring on the battlefield.”

“But this isn’t a battlefield or a war,” Lia managed as he slid his cock back up through her wet folds and continue making steady circles around her clit. She felt her pulse pounding in her ears as he teased sensitivity to her pleasure center, and she stared up past his shoulder and tried to think about the newest couple Martin and Mindy on her Instant Marriage show and if she’d be able to see if they decided to stay married or get a divorce on the upcoming season finale.

Bane increased the circular rhythm on her hard, sensitive nub of flesh. “Look at me,” he demanded on a husky whisper until she reluctantly met his eyes, trying to keep from gasping in time with his movements.

“You haven’t seen much of the real world,” he murmured as he held her frozen under the weight of his gaze and he smoothed the head of his cock down to press against her tight opening. 

Lia flushed vividly fuchsia as a moan slipped from her lips when he stopped touching her.

Bane uttered a primitive sound that made a rush of wetness flood Lia’s cunt, a sound before words were used to convey raw wanton lust and rutting in the wilderness like animals with prehensile tails. 

“Your father has kept you safe from the danger of the outside world, you’re safe in your tower. A princess only viewed from afar,” he growled as he began to urgently tease the rough pad of his thumb over her clit. “It puts you at a disadvantage outside the secure perimeter of your kingdom, you’re helpless among the unwashed masses.” 

“You don’t know anything about me,” she managed between breathless gasps as he pushed her closer to an orgasmic precipice. 

Bane lifted his weight off of her enough to let his eyes wander over her heaving, full breasts, quivering belly and shaking thighs. 

He narrowed his eyes down at the exposed frilly rosy lips of her wet center. He could see why men would kill and crawl over the dead and dying for just a glimpse of her delectable cunt. 

They would fall at the base of her Ivory Tower in pursuit of plunging themselves inside her creamy, soft, sweet cunt hole. 

Lia couldn’t see his satisfied smile behind his mask as hot tears rolled down her cheeks, reeking with bitter shame as he made her come hard until her body broke out in a fine sheen of sweat and left her knees shaking. Bane held her locked in his eyes that were simultaneously empty yet filled with the place nightmares originated from. 

Bane’s breathing returned to a normal pace as he wordlessly stared down at Lia, her face still flushed, and her lips chapped. 

She shouted in both shock and surprise when he delivered a hard, stinging slap to her femininity. Her clit still aching and throbbing with his rough touch and spilled pleasure and her pussy lips puffy and swollen from his aggressive attention. 

“Clean yourself up and go to sleep,” he finally grumbled as he abruptly released her wrists and rose from the floor. 

He tucked his cock back behind his zipper and threw a roughhewn blanket in her general direction before leaving her with the dingy sheets, small fire, and aching center.

Lia flinched when he slammed the adjoined door between the two-room cabin.

Once behind the heavy door, Bane rushed to the monitors and watched the light of the fire reflect the path of her tears down her cheeks. Each bloated tear was translucent and moved like a liquid diamond as it fell from her face and was consumed by the rough fibers of the blanket. 

Bane sat back in the chair and fumbled his cock back out, he’d never quite softened from the extra rush of his analgesic inhalant and quickly stroked himself to a state of near painful hardness as he watched Lia wipe at the inside of her thighs with the edge of the blanket.

He had the volume turned up to the max and felt a trill from his pituitary gland to his taint as she hissed in pain when the blanket touched her used intimate skin. 

Bane suddenly had the sexual control of a teenage glimpsing the edge of lace panties as he came so fast he had nothing to catch it in. He groaned as his sticky come splashed on the floor and he collapsed back into the rolling office chair. 

Bane kept his strong thighs spread wide and fondled with his cock as it softened, eking out every bit of pleasure as he remembered fucking Lia’s fears with just the touch of his cock.

Bane watched Lia on the monitors as her crying ceased and she cocooned herself in the blankets before eventually falling asleep. Bane slid into a nap not too long after she succumbed to her own exhaustion.


	10. ETA 3 Hours

As the isolated cabin remained quiet while Lia and Bane slept, hours away on the freshly paved highway, the well-paid militant driving the luxury car with Talia and the unconscious Stryver and Daggett, turned onto the dirt road that Talia pointed out. 

The armed soldier of fortune at the wheel, Lawrence “Larry” Rogowski had failed to make the cut for professional hockey and turned his attention to guns and protection of the homeland. He glanced up in the rearview mirror and smirked at Daggett and Stryver collapsed against the plush leather seats. 

Daggett was drooling long ropes of saliva onto his baby blue tie while Stryver had been taken under by the opiate before he could tuck his cock back into his pants. 

His length had heavily deflated and lay flaccid against the inside of his thigh, the shriveled head stuck in a glistening snail trail of his spilled, sticky seed.

Talia shifted and squirmed on the passenger seat, a veritable cat on a hot tin roof as she shimmed into a pair of well-fitting jeans, long-sleeved cotton blouse, low-heeled boots and a thin leather coat as Larry moved the big vehicle onto the poorly paved shortcut to the cabin. 

“Why knock em’ out, ain’t they good for the money?” he asked as he glanced over at Talia as she tapped out a message on her smartphone.

Talia didn’t look up as she answered. “I don’t want them to know where we are, Daggett must be watched.”

“And the pale shrimp?” Larry asked and glanced up at again at Stryver slumped against the leather seat, spread-eagled with his puny flaccid cock, displayed in all its miniscule glory.

Talia chuckled. “I needed to work off some excess energy,” she murmured and finished her message before tapping the send arrow.

As Talia’s electronic message was disseminated and sent to its recipient, back in Gotham City, Gordon watched Blake cross the street and start chatting up a few men with broad shoulders and hooded eyes as they cupped their large palms around steaming paper bowls of steel-cut oatmeal. The cathedral had received a donation of blueberries from a grocery store that were past being able to sell but offered colorful dots to the men and women’s breakfast as they stood outside in the harsh morning cold. 

Gordon grew restless as he waited for Blake to return with reinforcements. His mind drifted to Sara and then to Lia from the moment she came into the world. 

Gordon closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the seat as he remembered the emergency call to a shitty part of Gotham City on a call of domestic abuse.

Jim’s partner at the time was Linda Kiprusoff, having ten years under her belt over the fresh-faced Gordon.

Linda had called in their location and ETA to where the 9-1-1 call originated. 

“Watch your corners rookie,” Linda said as they approached the ramshackle apartment where a woman’s piercing wails permeated outwards from the walls put   
together with spit and chewed bubble gum. 

Gordon nodded as Linda pounded on the door. 

“Gotham PD. Open the door!”

Gordon and Linda both ducked sideways and hugged the walls as four gunshot blasts came through the door, splintering it to pieces before the shooter began to reload.

Linda stayed on the ground and whipped herself around and unloaded her magazine into the tall, skinny shirtless man who was lowering the barrel of the shotgun to the head of a very hysterical, very pregnant woman sobbing on the dirty floor littered with broken beer bottles and cigarette butts.

Bloody holes, open gaping red maws bloomed on the man’s midsection and he was clinically dead before his corpse hit the floor, landing heavily next to the howling pregnant woman.

Gordon rushed to the woman’s side and saw it was a young teenager upon closer examination. The young blonde girl with black roots had her hands clutched to her   
crotch and belly and Gordon could see blood flowing freely from her, splashing onto the floor, and staining the inside of her quivering thighs. 

“Plea…please mister, don’t let my….don’t let me baby die,” the young girl cried as she reached and clutched Gordon with a bloody hand.

Gordon watched Linda check the dead man’s pulse before calling for an ambulance.

Linda was soon on the other side of the girl’s gesticulating body as the labor process grew stronger and her body practically bent as she gave a guttural shriek and her face twisted into one of sheer agony.

“Shit Gordon, the baby is almost out,” Linda whispered as she pushed the girl’s thighs apart and found the still, greyish face and upper shoulders of the baby being born.

Linda stripped off her coat and positioned herself between the girl’s shaking thighs and urged her to keep pushing. 

Gordon squeezed the sweaty-faced girl’s hand as she floated in and out of consciousness.

“Please…please…please,” she murmured before her words emerged too low for Gordon to hear.

“Stay with me,” Gordon urged and brushed her sweat-soaked hair off her clammy forehead as her eyes started rolling in their sockets. “What’s your name?” he asked and squeezed her hand tighter, beginning to feel the warmth of her spilled blood begin to soak into the knees and lower legs of his uniform’s slacks. 

“Save my baby, sav,” the teenager gurgled before she slumped heavily against the floor, as dead as her would-be murderer and father of her baby.

Gordon pressed his fingertips to the girl’s pallid neck, anxious for any flutter of a beat. 

He was palpating every part of her neck and even laying his ear over her chest when the squalling sound of the newborn reached his ears.

Gordon looked over as Linda cradled the crying baby close to her chest and swaddled it in her GPD jacket.

For a few minutes, the three of them sat in silence, save for the babies cries as the ambulance grew closer, the lights and sirens suddenly illuminated the place where the baby was conceived and born, saved from drowning in a pool of her mother’s dying blood, never given a name, and buried at the county’s expense in an anonymous grave marked, Baby Girl.

Gordon was shook to consciousness as Blake returned to the car, flanked by three men who were as tall as professional basketball players. 

He stared down at the wrinkles on the tops of his hands and simple wedding band as he remembered being able to adopt the orphan newborn. Linda had been instrumental in pulling the right strings and getting Jim and Sara’s Gordon’s adoption papers to the top of the list.

Gordon blew out a sharp breath as Blake opened the driver’s side door and the trio of men packed the back seat, introducing themselves as Scott Meinhardt, Alex Fields, and Jorge Barnard. 

Gordon couldn’t find words of gratitude to the three strangers who were willing to stop everything they were doing to help them. Men he recognized from being picked up for an odd theft or carjacking over the decades.

Scott, the tallest of the three, laid a strong hand over Gordon’s shoulder. “Blake caught us up, we’ll get your daughter back and ensure people face the consequences.”

Gordon nodded and briefly met the eyes of the other two solemn men before he faced forward in the seat as Blake read through a secure message from a tech-wizard at Gotham PD that supplemented her income on the side looking up and passing along information to the highest-bidder. 

Blake groaned as he stared down at the message from office Marybeth Mitchell.

“What is it son?” Gordon asked, concern creasing his own forehead. 

Blake blew out a sharp breath before answering. “All MM came up with so far is a cell tower a couple hours north, she’s still tracing the signal, but it’ll take more time.”

“Let’s head north then,” Scott said from the backseat and pounded the back of the seat.

Blake met Scott’s eyes in the rearview mirror and nodded, gripping his fingers tighter around the wheel as he felt his excitement grow wanting to dispense justice without the legalities of a preparator having any semblance of rights. 

As the mobile muscle car of judge, jury and executioners headed north with the hopes that MM would have her hands on a more specific location soon, Gordon glanced over at Blake who was occupied navigating the onramp traffic and surreptitiously tapped out a quick message to Bruce Wayne, knowing his best chance for a location would not be with any technician no matter how fluent they were in binary code but in the billionaire who wore many hats and a stiff cowl.

Hours away, at the other end of the winding shortcut, Bane’s burner phone buzzed as Talia’s message arrived.

Bane grunted and stirred awake at the sound. His shoulder joints popped as he reached for the phone, the plastic rectangle looked like a baby bird nestled in his massive palm. His eyes moved over Talia’s message and he felt a foreign, tingling sensation trickle into his brain and rape his thought processing center as he said her words aloud on a musical whisper. 

“En route, ETA 3 hours, clean everything, we leave immediately after the sale.”

Bane stood and stretched his arms to their full width; he pulled in several deep breaths and kept the medicated oxygen trapped in his lungs before he narrowed his eyes on the center HD screen of Lia huddled under the thin sheets. 

Bane opened the door that adjoined the two rooms and walked across the room with stealthy silence for a man of his size and stature. 

He stood at the foot of the bed and stared down at where Lia was in the barest grip of sleep. 

Bane reached out a hand and traced the rough pads of his fingertips down the side of her exposed calf and traced a circle around the protruding bump of her ankle bone.

He knew the precise moment that she began to rise from unconsciousness and felt a surge of irritation that she kept her eyes squeezed shut and continued the charade of sleep. 

As Bane continued to stare down at her wordlessly, Lia could hear his ragged breathing increase as she kept her eyes squeezed shut and her body rigid. 

As she started counting in her head, anything to focus on other than his wheezing potential, Bane reread Talia’s message and found a well of resentment that had burrowed deep inside, spill forth in furious anger at being directed around by Talia, being her dangerous chess piece to play with as she pleased or keep stored on a shelf when she couldn’t tarry any attention. 

Bane was suddenly starving for more than Venom at that moment and shoved the phone deep in his hip pocket as he found himself craving something indescribable to even himself. 

He felt a tingling throughout his groin as the feelings weren’t primitive, weren’t akin to naked, aggressive rutting in the dirt. Bane had a perverse thought that paralyzed his touch on her as he cupped her heel. He wasn’t wanting to force painful groans from her but entertained the fleeting fantasy of sighs and breathless gasps brought on without pain and suffering. 

As Bane and Lia’s exhalations become synchronized as she feigned sleep and he was stuck in a foreign thought hurricane, three hours away, Talia glanced down at her phone as it blipped from her coat pocket.

“Goddammit Gordon,” Talia said with gritted teeth as she read a message from her billionaire bat fuck boy Bruce.

“Keep this to yourself, Gordon’s in trouble. I’m going to contact my masked friend. I’ll miss the gala, but I promise I’ll make it up to you. Monaco?”

“What is it?” Larry asked as Talia seethed with the ferocity of a volcano moments before explosion. 

“Gordon contacted Bruce; I threatened his daughter’s life if he did that. I’m surprised,” she said honestly before her anger returned and she tapped out a message to Bruce in Miranda’s even dulcet-toned texting. 

“Bruce, please be safe, I’ll be home waiting for your return. I can’t possibly attend that gala while you might be in danger. Drinks in Monaco would be wonderful darling.”

Talia shoved her phone back in her pocket and adjusted the heater vents. “There’s a hefty cash bonus if you get us there faster and don’t hesitate when I point and tell you to pull the trigger.”

Larry couldn’t agree fast enough and downshifted the large engine and was soon moving them much quicker and cutting down on their arrival time.


	11. The Pope Who Didn't Change His Name

As Talia drew closer, back in Gotham City, Bruce, and Lucius Fox scrutinized a series of cell tower pings to try and triangulate where the initial message to Gordon had originated. 

As Fox typed in another set of coordinates in accordance with traffic surveillance cameras, hours away in the isolated cabin, Bane yanked the dingy linen off of Lia.

“Quit the act and sit up,” he ordered. 

Lia let out a slow breath as she sat upright, stifling a groan from the aches in muscles she didn’t realize she even possessed. 

“Eat,” Bane grunted in a cro magnon man tone as he tapped the toe of his steel-toed boot against a sliced apple that looked a little sad on a white plate. 

Lia quickly reached for the squat mug of tepid water that held a strong mineral taste, but she was so thirsty and hungry, she nearly choked eating and drinking too   
fast. 

“Thank you,” Lia sighed as she set the empty glass on the floor. 

“Stand up,” Bane ordered musically and watched her struggle to her feet. 

Lia kept her eyes glued to the wood grain on the floor as Bane’s gaze moved over her, knowing Talia would want an explanation of the bruising if it brought the price down. He had rinsed the matching bra and panties she had been wearing when he had brought her to the cabin and dropped them at her feet. 

Lia looked up at him with a frown. 

“Put them on.”

Lia stayed still as he closed the distance between them and repeated himself with a dangerous melodical lilt to his voice. “Put them on, now, Miss Gordon.”

“No. Why?” she stammered.

“Because Miss Gordon, the winning bidder is on their way and want a good look at what their money bought them.”

“You can’t actually sell me,” Lia spit and shook her head as she took a step back and stumbled against the edge of the bedding.

Bane capitalized on the moment and moved with ferocious speed as he captured her upper arms and practically lifted her off her feet as he brought his masked face dangerously close to hers. 

As he spoke, Lia could feel his medicated exhale brush against her full lips. Bane felt fireworks in his nervous system as her heart raced so fast, he could see her pulse pounding in her neck and his cock twinged with aching want as old as early man as her pupils dilated with his close proximity. 

“Put on the clothes Miss Gordon or I shall do it for you. I am but a moving piece in the design and have no ability to change your situation.”

Bane forced himself to take a step back when Lia began shaking from head to toe but began slipping out of her minimal clothing. 

He felt filled with the power of Mercury as he mimicked the power of the Pope who didn’t change his name as his eyes memorized her supple nudity. Bane felt a pull inside and a spike of necrotic jealousy and envy of someone paying for her naked curves and untouched pink center. 

Lia moved methodically as she slipped into the plain bra and panties. She wanted to move faster but felt off-balance and didn’t want to risk falling and feeling further vulnerable if that was even possible. 

Bane remained in resolute silence while inside his nervous system was alive and moving adrenaline like a freight train throughout his body. 

Lia followed his hand’s movement as he pointed to a stiff-backed wooden chair. 

She settled uncomfortably on the bare, wooden seat as Bane circled her, a shark further evolved, a Megalodon, the product of intrauterine cannibalism as he assessed her hungrily. 

4.5 billion thoughts swirled inside his cranium and raced a hot pathway up his brain’s corpus colostrum and leapfrogged his hemisphere’s as he clenched his teeth behind his mask so hard that his jaw popped and he averted his eyes and handcuffed her hands to the chair before he slipped a canvas blindfold in place over her eyes, pulling it tightly until he earned a painful gasp from her throat. 

Bane continued walking around her in critical circles, the weight of his gaze heavy even under the wrap of the blindfold. 

“Please,” Lia began to babble. “Please you can’t sell me, there has to be something else,” she stammered.

“What else could there be Miss Gordon?” Bane asked as he paused his circles and leaned down to speak against the crown of her head. His breath warmly tickling her scalp through the front of his mask. 

As Lia struggled to put together an answer, Talia and company grew closer as Fox and Bruce continued to utilize the spyware equipment in Applied Sciences. 

As the software continued to narrow down the cell phone origination point, Blake kept his foot jammed on the accelerator and urged the large engine north. Gordon had shared that he’d reached out to Bruce and now they were all working together to find out where Lia could be and the motivation of the release of those specific prisoners or if that was just a smoke screen. 

As forces converged and whirled about in the general direction of the isolated cabin, Bane walked around Lia and squatted in front of her. “Please enlighten me on some alternatives to your situation Miss Gordon?” Bane asked with melodical amusement. 

Lia frowned behind the blindfold as she stumbled over her words. “My mom’s money, there’s an estate trust, you could practically name your price.”

“I’m not motivated by money,” Bane murmured as Lia’s mind whirred and generated another scenario. 

“Let me run away, say I escaped,” she pleaded.

“That would never happen,” Bane said with such deadly emptiness to his words that her bladder tightened. 

“What do you want to let me go?”

Lia lapsed into tears behind her blindfold as Bane silently watched her shaking shoulders for a few painfully long minutes before settling his palms on top of her bare thighs and squeezing with growing intensity. 

“You have to be sitting here when the buyer and rest of the security detail arrive, anything less will immediately alert suspicion.”

Lia’s tears slowed and she nodded as Bane continued, tightening his grip on her thighs. 

“Events could enfold in a different order when the buyer arrives and money is presented if certain conditions were altered,” Bane growled as he began to slide his hands up and down the outside of her thighs.

“What would need to change?” she managed as he slid his hand to rest over her bare kneecaps. 

“My motivation,” he grunted as he slid his hands up the smooth skin of her inner thighs and pushed her legs apart. 

“What does that mean?” she barely managed to whisper.

“Do you want to live?” Bane asked instead, ignoring her question.

Lia moved her chin, distracted by the pressure of his palms pushing her thighs further apart. 

“Do you want to live Miss Gordon?” Bane grumbled loudly as he roughly shoved her thighs as far apart as she could manage. “Do you?”

“I do, I want to, I want to live,” Lia stuttered and felt a furious blush threaten to make her nose bleed as he stroked the fingertips of one hand over the thin cotton that kept her intimate center from his penetrating gaze.

“I want to live,” Lia repeated before her voice broke as she tried to close her legs. 

She immediately ceased all movement and froze when she heard the metallic click of a switchblade and the cool touch of the blade as he traced the sharp edge up the inside of her thigh. 

“What can you offer in return Miss Gordon? There isn’t much you can put up for collateral is there?” Bane asked on a rasp as he teased the tip of the blade in the simple edging of her plain panties. 

Every part of Lia was frozen as he continued, tugging the thin fabric further away from her body.

“What can you even do Miss Gordon besides smile and pose for pictures with your father at charity benefits and pancake breakfasts?”

Lia’s anger surged and competed with her fear. “You don’t know me,” she spit while still robbed of sight. 

“Tell me who you are then Miss Gordon,” Bane demanded as he traced the edge of the knife up her belly and the linen clasp of the bra between her heaving breasts. 

“Can you keep a house, manage the finances of a household?” he continued, not giving her a chance to answer.

“I, I can..,” Lia stumbled before Bane interrupted her. 

“Can you be a partner? Someone to keep the home warm and the bed?” Bane murmured on a husky whisper as he gripped her chin and traced the pad of his thumb over her lower lip. 

“Tell me,” he ordered and fought to maintain the semblance of a warrior or at least a strong façade even though he was hidden from her eyes by the rough cloth knotted over her eyes. 

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to say?” Lia said, her voice growing in volume along with her evolving fear.

“I’m going to give you one choice and one opportunity to answer,” Bane murmured melodically and smoothed his hand the length of her jaw until he could cup the back of her skull with his palm. 

“Do you understand?” he growled as his tone verged on feral as he tightened his hand into a fist in the silken fall of her tangled hair until he could pull her head back and the line of her neck taut.

Lia moaned and tried to nod within the limited amount of room she could move in his ironclad embrace. 

She gasped when he remained silent, but soon felt the cool, metal kiss of the blade against her throat. 

Bane held the knife with enough pressure that an earthquake would’ve opened her skin if she had even entertained the thought of struggling as he spoke. 

“I’m going to ask you again if you want to live. If you answer yes, it means I’ll keep you from the buyer and fuck you before we leave after destroying the evidence of your former life. If you say no, I’m going to fuck you before I send you off with the buyer and however long remains of your life.”

Lia’s lips parted but no real sound emerged as Bane adjusted his grip on her hair as his words waterboarded her thought processing center. 

“What kind of a life would I have with you?” she breathed, asking her question up to the darkness that covered her eyes. 

“I am a warrior,” Bane mechanically voiced as he trailed the tip of the wickedly sharp blade up the line of her neck, along her jaw and around her full lips as he continued. “I will provide for you, shelter and protection,” he growled. “In return, you’ll give me every part of yourself without complaint.”

“Do you want to live?” Bane asked on an inhuman growl as he lowered his masked mouth to hover over her parted lips as she panted breathlessly. 

Lia nodded, not trusting herself to speak, only his voice to keep her company under the darkness of the blindfold. 

Bane closed the knife and slipped it into his side pocket before ripping her blindfold off her face. 

“Look at me,” he demanded in a strangled mechanical whisper.

Lia opened her eyes to meet his haunting gaze, his eyes furiously searching hers as he groaned on a warbled melody of broken words. His tone a piano falling down several flights of concrete stairs. 

“Do you want to live?”

“I,” Lia started and watched his eyes widen as she began to speak. “I want,” she said before her voice broke and she started sobbing.

Bane stared down at her, his lust still growing, her tears were maybe even napalm to the forest fire of his want. 

Lia met his eyes and spoke without blinking. “I want something first,” she said breathlessly.

“What do you want?” Bane asked on a ragged whisper as he smoothed his hand from her mouth down to tug at her bra until he could cup her warm breast with his palm. His breath caught and his chest tightened as he could feel the galloping of her rapid heartbeat through the supple flesh. 

Lia pressed her lips together and tried to not be distracted by his fingertips teasing her rose pink nipple to a stiff peak. 

“I want to see your….. your face,” she murmured.

Bane stilled his rough fingertips on her delicate skin as he narrowed his eyes down at her.

“Why?” he finally asked when she tried her damnedest to hold his unblinking gaze. 

“Because I want to see the face of the man that’s taken everything away from me,” Lia managed before the strong façade of her words was broken by a sob.


	12. Equality Broken, Crushed and Fucked to Death

As Talia continued at break-neck speed towards the cabin, Gordon and pals continued vaguely north, hoping Fox would be able to better triangulate a signal with the billions of dollars wrapped up in Applied Sciences.

At the cabin, a deep rumble reminiscent to approaching thunder emerged on Bane’s chuckle as he stared down at Lia’s sightless face. 

Lia felt her bladder tighten and she clenched her pelvic floor as his deep chuckle trailed off into a ragged growl.

She kept as still as a carved marble monument as the fearsome man fumbled around with her handcuffs. 

Lia felt a false hope spark but was vanquished as quickly as it started when he readjusted the cuffs, so she wasn’t attached to the chair anymore. Before she could let herself start to wonder what the point to adjusting the cuffs were, his large hand closed around her upper arm and yanked her up and out of the chair. 

Lia opened her mouth to scream and nothing but a low mewl fell from her lips as Bane tossed her towards the air mattress, where she landed among the faded sheets. 

Lia struggled to sit upright and was met by the back of Bane’s hand against her soft cheek as he knocked her back to the inflatable bed. 

Bane stared down at Lia, her tangled fall of hair spread out around her like a silken halo, the rag over her eyes kept her tear-stained eyes sightless and off of him. 

Bane’s chest was heaving as his heart galloped in its opaque pericardial sac, nestled deep under the broad muscles of his chest as he continued to wordlessly stare down at her. 

His nose flared when he detected the smell of her stale piss, fresh flowing fear, and innocence beneath it all. Bane salivated behind his mask as her scent became hypnotic and his lips pulled unto a cruel smile as his eyes zeroed in on her bleeding lip and patchwork of bruises. 

Bane’s respiration rate was growing high as he reached down and captured her ankle as she fruitlessly tried to retreat in any way she could. Lia cried out and kicked her free foot out at him erratically, feeling like he was made out of iron when her heel connected with the large muscle on the top of his thigh. 

Bane grunted with the annoyed contact as his eyes began to practically glow from within, fresh coals dumped onto a steam locomotion smoldered behind his nearly blown pupils. His nervous system raced electrical stimuli throughout his body in time with the rapid pounding of his heart.

He tightened his grip on her ankle and tore her bra and thin panties free until she was clothed with just the muslin blindfold, every part of her vulnerable to his gaze and anything his mind could conjure.

Lia continued to struggle even in his unbreakable hold. Bane smiled behind his mask at her valiant attempts as he depressed a rarely used ivory button that released a strong nerve-receptor inhibitor which had the convenient of side-effect of engorging his cGMP levels and resulted in his cock rapidly hardening.

Despite the moment, Lia felt a flood of embarrassment wash over her as Bane settled his large hand over her smooth-shaven intimacy. Matt had asked her to shave before their romantic camping trip and she had done so with an excited trill running through her body, now she was mortified as she remembered running the plastic, pink razor delicately on her femininity until she was soft and bare.

Lia froze as she heard the metallic tinkling of him fumbling with his belt and the front of his pants, gasping for oxygen, Venom, and the furious want to bury himself to the hilt in her pink pussy as he yanked out his hardening cock. 

“Don’t stop struggling now Miss Gordon,” Bane rasped mechanically before stealing her breath as he yanked her fully underneath him, pulling her thighs to either side of his muscular waist. 

He felt a twinge in his cock and his nerve endings performed a tantalizing dance as they raced up and down his spine at the predatory fun of playing with your food before fucking it.

Bane shifted and dropped more of his weight on her, smashing her to the giving surface of the air mattress. Lia gasped as she felt his rigid cock pressing into the supple flesh of her inner thigh. 

“You said you wanted a partner,” she screamed up at him, not knowing what part of her body he was looking at it.

Lia continued when the masked man paused above her, still impossibly locked up in his embrace.

“Aren’t partners equal though?” she gasped when she felt him move his painfully hard cock along the shell pink lips of her slit. 

Bane hissed as he moved the sensitive head of his cock in slow circles around the opening of her tight, pink cunt. 

“Do you feel equal?” he growled and squeezed his large hands into the supple flesh of her hips, his fingers threatening to rupture through her skin like squeezing an overripe, juicy melon. 

“Do you?” Bane pressed with a melodical grunt as he teased the sensitive head of his cock in slow circles around her clit that was blooming from dormancy at his insistent touch.

“No!” Lia spit up to where she imagined his masked face, wishing she could see strings of her blood-tinged saliva dripping from the titanium infrastructure. 

His deep chuckle resounded in the space between her rapidly increasing breathing as she suddenly found her eyes filled with his looming, masked face when he at once yanked the muslin rag from over her eyes.

Lia blinked rapidly as she tried to look everywhere at once but was faced with the wall of his musculature body and endless depths of his eyes as he saw inside her arterial intersection and each rung of her genetic strand. 

“You want to be an equal partner?” Bane growled as he circled her tight opening and let the head of his cock nearly slide inside. He held her eyes as his cock ached for release and he pushed more insistently against her pink opening as she breathlessly began to gasp.

“My partner?” he murmured as he slipped his hand up to fumble at the rear metal clasps of his mask. 

Lia held her breath as her abductor took a deep breath and after a series of mechanical hisses, removed the titanium and Kevlar mask. 

“Say it,” Bane ordered as Lia absorbed the ridged scars and malformations from the surgeon in The Pit. 

The skin was pulled taut across cheekbones that could cut glass and covered the strong curve of his chin, thinner across his forehead that the temporal artery’s shape could be traced with one’s finger.

The surgeon’s hands hadn’t marred his masculinity or ability to make her uterine walls quicken and stimulate her ovarian follicles as though she was a fucking cat. 

Bane grew tired of being in the position to ask for anything and with a primitive grunt slid his painfully hard cock inside her one inch at a time. He suppressed a shudder as his heavy cock burst through her thin shield of innocence. 

Lia’s lungs began to ache from the breath was holding and was only capable of making a series of strange noises as his thick rigidity stretched her wide, filling her until their intimate flesh kissed.

“Answer me,” he demanded as he withdrew his hard length and thrust deeply until she yelped.

Lia felt herself half-nod. “I don’t want to be your slave,” she moaned on a cross between a hiccup and a sob.

“What does that look like to you?” he surprised himself by asking as his rhythm turned erratic and he fought for control over his body. 

Bane changed his motion and soon had her fighting a low moan as he teased the soft spongy spot inside her tight cunt as he waited for her to answer.

Lia shook her head as her body temperature spiked and she fought from gasping at the electrical twinges of ecstasy shooting through her pussy.

“Not like this, don’t treat me like an animal,” she managed before tapering off into breathlessness and the sound of their wet flesh forcefully kissing was the next loudest sound. 

“The only other place is next to me, by my side,” Bane grunted as he smoothed out his uneven rhythm until he touched the deep place inside her that was a severe juxtaposition between pleasure and pain. He teased that spot with the head of his thick cock until she was bobbing her head, wanting him to stop whatever he was doing inside of her.

“Say it,” he ordered. 

“Yes, yes, just stop doing that,” she panted anxiously and tried to shift without any success.

Bane shifted and traced the rough fingertips of his free hand along her swollen jaw and around her bruised lips as he held her gaze, feeling his balls tighten and pull up closer to his body as he knew he’d soon be hotly filling her.

Lia watched the scar that bisected his lips crinkle as his lungs spasmed, and he had to quickly fumble his mask back in place before he smoothed the rough pads of his fingers across her lips.

Bane dropped his masked face to the warm curve of her neck as he plunged himself as deep as he could and shuddered as his cock spilled his hot, sticky seed inside her. 

Lia closed her eyes as he collapsed most of his weight against her, pushing her thighs wider and smashing her soft tits against the taut musculature of his chest as he breathed heavily behind his mask, sucking up the Venom to quell the upset in every part of his nervous system.

Lia would never know it for certain but in the quiet as his cock softened and slid out of her intimate center, she was certain the masked man murmured an apology against her flushed skin.


	13. Ill-Conceived Fucking on a Shuddering Mountain

Lia felt the formidable man shudder before he abruptly moved away from her.

She drew her legs up to her chest and rolled over to her side after her attacker uncuffed her wrists.

Before Lia squeezed her eyes shut, she watched the masked man tuck his cock back behind his zipper before he stared down at his blood-smeared palm. 

Bane took a deep inhale and exhaled with a melodic rattle as he wiped his hand clean on the side of his pants before he left her to the messy sheets, dotted with blood, sweat and iridescent streaks of his spilled sticky seed. 

Lia flinched as he slammed the door between the two rooms.

Bane paced the small room, staring down at his hand and her blood drying in the scarred webbings of his fingers. 

He was distracted from further thoughts for a moment when his cheap phone chimed twice. 

He read the message from Talia several times, hearing her speaking what she typed, suddenly having thoughts and a desire to satisfy his own needs and wants above all others for the first time in his tortured life. 

Bane whispered the message aloud before he tossed his phone to the top of the flimsy card table.

“My friend, have the purchase ready, we’ll be arriving in just a couple hours.”

“My friend,” he murmured in a melodic tone that was in no way soothing and only promised certain pain as he punched the wall.

As Bane settled back in the wheeled office chair and stared at the multiple screens and images of Lia as she shuddered under the cheap linen, crying fat, translucent tears, tasting blood from her lacerated lip and leaking his sticky come, making her inner thighs slick, hours away Gordon, Blake and their PTSD muscle continued north, sticking to the interstate as they waited for Fox to give them better coordinates.

As Gordon and the rest of the men chain-smoked their way north, Talia drummed her fingertips on the tops of her thighs as she mentally urged the large engine to move faster. The storm was slowing their progress, but Larry wanted the cash bonus and kept the accelerator pressed dangerously close to the floor. 

At the cabin, Bane leaned close to the center HD screen and watched Lia sit up and wipe her eyes and dab at the skin of her broken lip.

He was mesmerized as she slid the sheet down to wipe his sticky seed from where it leaked out of her wet center. The video didn’t have sound, but he saw her wince upon contact. 

Bane glanced over at his discarded phone, my friend, kept echoing in the front of his brain. 

“I’ve never touched something so shiny and new,” he thought and clenched his hands into fists. Anger surging through him at this billionaire buyer en route who’d be taking away what he now considered his by the laws of the jungle. 

Bane closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair, his weight making the plastic creak as his mind transported him back to Pena Dura and the darkness of The Pit.

The corners held more than darkness, men were gutted and left to die in the pockets of pitch blackness. Bane recalled a memory he had buried under miles of earth, yet it still remained just under the surface, barely dormant.

He had been a young man, already scarred, damaged, yet alive under the surgeon’s hands. 

A rainy day had drawn him out, he had always enjoyed the freshness the rain brought even to the dank air of The Pit.

Shouts from the lip of The Pit weren’t rare and Bane was able to see a new prisoner added to the dangerous number of occupants. 

The new prisoner was set upon by men who bared their teeth and snarled like a pack of wild dogs.

Bane watched from where he leaned against the wall, the rainy air also making his entire body ache, as the man took his last few breaths. 

Bane’s eyes watched the vultures descend and trap and truss the body, all fighting for the new shoes. Two men fought over a notebook and a square photo flew through the air and landed at Bane’s feet.

He squatted down, grunting painfully as his hip popped and picked up the black and white photograph.

Bane’s eyes instantly memorized the photo that captured a young woman, smiling as she stood amongst a vast vineyard. The wind had picked up in the valley she stood, and her hair swirled around her head like a silken halo. 

Bane’s eyes snapped open to stare at the monitor and Lia’s tear-stained face, realizing as he had fucked her innocence away, the eyes that stared back at him were very much like the young woman who had smiled and comforted him in the darkness all those years ago.

He looked at his tactical watch, not a lot of time to prepare for Talia’s arrival and whoever she had tapped for security. 

Lia jumped when the masked man threw open the door that separated the two rooms. She pulled the dingy sheets tighter around her battered, naked body. 

She kept her eyes glued to the floor as her attacker moved between the two rooms before making a few trips outside. 

Lia froze when his footfalls grew louder as he walked towards her. She held her breath as his boots came into view under her downcast eyes. 

“You need to clean up.”

The masked man’s musical words fell around her, and she flinched as he set a metal bucket of river water in front of her, the same oblong bar of soap and several rags. 

Lia looked up as her abductor turned and began to walk away. Bane paused and half-turned, catching her eyes on him as he spoke. “After you’ve cleaned up, we’ll discuss keeping you alive.”

Bane left her without further explanation and shut the door between them, leaving her alone.

He smiled behind his mask as he watched her on the multiple monitors as she slowly soaked and wrung out the rag before soaping up the threadbare square of fabric. He let out a low melodical rattle as Lia began to dab the damp cloth on her bruised skin, avoiding the sensitive spots.

Bane gave her ten minutes to clean up before he pulled open the door and collected the bucket and rags. 

He righted the chair he had knocked her out of earlier and pulled it closer to her. Lia watched him settle in the chair and level his wordless gaze at her. Bane stared until she began to squirm uncomfortably. 

“You want to live,” Bane finally stated.

Lia nodded as she cleared her throat. “Yes,” she croaked. 

“Do you know what it means in order for you to retain your life?”

Lia shrugged and adjusted the sheet around her naked flesh, “not completely,” she admitted. 

Bane leaned back in the chair, making it creak as it strained under his weight. He crossed his arms over his broad chest as he explained.

“You’ll start your life over next to me, under my roof.”

Lia felt a cramp sweep through her lower gut at his words as she tried to curl her legs further under her. “What else?” she asked breathlessly.

“You will keep nothing from me, not deny me and no harm will come to you.”

Lia closed her eyes and looked down at the shabby surface of the air mattress. “The other choice is whoever is coming here to, to buy, me?” 

Bane was silent before he answered, letting his eyes slide over the bare skin he could see, feeling his cock twitch as he drank in the sight of the oval bruises his fingers had left on the supple flesh of her upper arms.

When he spoke his voice rumbled throughout his broad chest and Lia heard the chair squeak in relief as he rose to his feet.

She kept a cry from falling between her lips when his knees cracked as he squatted in front of her, speaking as he tugged at the corner of the sheet that kept her naked skin from his eyes.

“That choice has been removed,” Bane started and dropped his hands to her knees. Lia felt the vibrations under his touch with each of his spoken words.

“If you refuse me, I’ll slip a ring through your nose and keep you penned with the livestock.”


	14. Transactional Future

At his words, Lia let her mind paint dueling images behind her wide eyes. 

One future, living close to the earth, finding solace and shelter among weeds and thorned branches, fucked with her face pressed into the stagnant mud, the other future, alive as some sort of companion to the masked man who had stolen her every moment and future breath from the second him and his party crashers raided their campsite.

As she blinked and felt acidic bile race up her throat, growing only closer, Talia pounded the dashboard and urged Larry to push the large engine to its maximum RPM’s while hours behind them, Gordon, and the carload of men with questionable moral compass’s continued north. Gordon had let out a ragged sigh of relief when Fox had sent a secure message that even the NSA couldn’t read with better coordinates to Lia’s possible location. 

As many armed people steadily approached, inside the remote cabin at the end of the rainbow, Bane left Lia to her tortured thoughts as he took multiple trips to a camouflaged utility vehicle at the back of the cabin. 

Lia watched him pass back and forth with armloads of electronic equipment and several briefcases with sturdy titanium locks. 

After he loaded the last of items he could poach from the cabin, Bane looked down at his heavy watch, calculating the remaining time he had before Talia arrived.

Before Bane returned to the cabin where Lia stayed huddled on the air mattress, he took a few minutes to arrange some tactical firewalls to bolster his ability to properly maintain a defense. 

Lia flinched when Bane sat heavily in the creaky chair and dropped a room-temp bottle of water and plastic sandwich bag with dried fruit in front of her. 

Lia kept her eyes off her masked tormentor and greedily dug into the leathery fruit pieces. Her fingers froze in mid-reach when Bane’s melodical voice fell arounder her. 

“Marriage will not be at all what your foolish mind can conjure. You will toil in the earth, care for the home, and provide me with offspring. Do not seek warmth from me,” Bane murmured and lifted her hand with the ragged nail bed as he continued. “In return, you will live, you will not suffer, your life will be as valuable as mine and no one will ever harm you even among their unspoken thoughts.”

Lia swallowed the mouthful of pulverized fruit and tried to pull her hand from his.

Bane only tightened his grip. 

“Do you still want to leave here with me?” he asked.

Lia closed her eyes and nodded, a barely perceptible movement.

“Say it Miss Gordon,” he musically demanded.

“Why does it matter if I say yes?” she spit angrily and stared up at him through her fringe of dark lashes. 

It might’ve been the sunlight through the double-paned window, the reflection and prismatic effect of the remaining water in the bottle or maybe Bane’s overstimulated pituitary gland that ejaculated copious amounts of adrenaline into his blood stream in combination with his analgesic inhalants, but her furious glare transported him back to a sprawling field of red poppies in Pakistan. 

He had been accompanying Talia on a big purchase of Soviet-era AK-47’s. 

Talia had dismissed him when she was invited inside by the ammunitions warlord who also dealt with the heroin industry and moved billions through Sub-Saharan Africa. 

Bane had walked to the rear of the main hut in search of shade.

He turned a corner and ran right into a lithe woman in a vividly orange and crimson dress, her bare feet in worn-leather sandals. 

Bane watched in slow-motion as the woman crashed onto the sand, swearing in a now almost dead language.

Bane smiled behind his mask as she continued swearing at him even after her eyes trailed from the tips of his heavy boots to the line of sweat running down the exposed skin of his cheek. 

The raven-haired woman with cheekbones that could cut glass stared at his outstretched hand and let a small smile tease her full lips as she let him pull her to her feet. 

Bane felt a tremor move through him as he was tempted to pull her into his arms but not sure what to do past that.

Years later, Bane still found himself waking from nightmares, his heart pounding in his chest as he would forever regret helping the woman to her feet.

He had been unaware that Talia was watching him from a window cloaked in the shadows. Talia gritted her teeth as she saw Bane’s body language soften towards the woman who helped tend the goats.

Hours later, Talia purchased the dark-haired woman and made Bane watch her be waterboarded with the milk of the bulbous red poppies, forcing her to overdose and asphyxiate on her own vomit before her heart stopped beating at the same time she suffered a stroke. 

Talia had turned to him, anger in her features. “The focus is on the mission, do not let your emotions or eyes stray away from me again,” she had spit before whistling for everyone to pack up and get to the jet she chartered to get to the Greek island of Kythnos to exchange the guns. 

Bane shook himself back to the present moment in the isolated cabin and narrowed his eyes at Lia. He knew his decision to take her from there was an indelible signature on his death warrant, but he wanted something shiny and new all of his own. Something to serve as recompense for everything that was stripped from his bones and soul. 

“Do not test me Miss Gordon,” he growled lowly and yanked her towards him, pulling her off balance until she had to stop herself from falling forward by pressing her palm against his chest, feeling his heart beating under her palm. “I can still leave you to be the billionaire’s plaything,” he threatened in an empty tone. 

“I want to, I want to stay with you,” Lia finally said as Bane slid his free hand up the curvature of her lower back to dance up the length of her spine, slide his fingers into her hair and cradle the back of her skull. 

“To be with me?” he pressed and closed his hand into a fist, making her gasp and nod.

“Yes, yes,” Lia stammered between breathless sobs. 

Bane nodded approvingly and released her suddenly until she could settle back on the tangled linen of the air mattress. 

In the remaining time before Talia arrived with Larry and the slowly awaking Daggett and Stryver, Bane directed Lia’s movements and told her to sit in the chair.

He explained that he was going to tie her to the chair and blindfold her but only for deceptive appearances.

Until the sound of the luxury sedan’s tires came to a stop in the driveway, Bane arranged buckets and vats of ether, acetic anhydride, ammonia, halon, and chloroform around the outside of the cabin, hidden in the thickets of brush and floral life. 

Bane stood upright and adjusted a blue knob under the chin of his mask, until his inhalant was kissed with just a bit of atropine to get his blood cells bloated and rushing around his system. 

He secured the scratchy blindfold over Lia’s eyes and tied it snugly but not as tight and uncomfortable as before. Lia flinched when he pressed the rough pads of his fingertips against her lips. 

“Be still, know that I’m your protector, warrior and god,” he murmured musically as outside Larry depressed the emergency brake and checked his handgun’s magazine, slipped the safety on, and tucked it back into the holster that nestled close to his ribs. 

Daggett began mumbling from the back seat as he stirred awake first, startled by Stryver’s unconscious form and flaccid cock resting against the inside of his thigh, the sensitive head tacky with his spent, dried come. 

“What? Where? What is happening Miss Tate?”

“Mr. Daggett, you and Mr. Stryver drank too much and passed out,” Talia started and continued before Daggett could argue. 

“Tuck in your shirt Mr. Daggett, your purchase is just inside there,” Talia said and pointed through the windshield at the cabin. 

Daggett forgot all his questions and confusion as all his blood rushed to his cock thinking of the new toy he was going to skewer repeatedly until he got bored.

Talia winked at Larry and got out of the car, slamming the heavy door.

Larry exited the driver’s side and opened Daggett’s door.

“Let him sleep it off,” Talia murmured about Stryver and led Daggett to the cabin door. She looked back over her shoulder before she turned the tarnished doorknob at Larry who was lighting a menthol as he leaned against the hot hood. 

“Keep an eye out for anything,” she said before pushing open the door. 

Daggett practically tripped over his designer encased feet as his eyes fell on Lia secured to the chair, bound at the ankles, arms behind her and blindfolded. 

Talia scanned the room looking for Bane, satisfied to see him standing in the doorway between the two rooms with his arms crossed over his massive chest.

“My friend,” Talia purred and let her tongue trace over her lower lip as the big payday drew closer by the second and made her want to bang herself to a quick climax with anticipation of the cash flow and devastation to Jim and Sara Gordon. 

Bane nodded and kept zero emotion and fury from leaking into his deep hazelnut eyes as Daggett walked towards Lia.

Daggett wiggled his fingers as his mouth went dry. “May I?” he practically panted at Talia.

“Of course Mr. Daggett,” Talia said with a demure smile and watched as he reached out a small, slimy hand to rest on top of Lia’s thigh.

Lia flinched and kept any sound to herself as she felt the sweaty palm slide further up her thigh.

Bane felt himself grow so rigid his tension could fracture the very tectonic plates of the earth as he saw Daggett’s puny cock grow hard behind his tailored slacks. 

Talia also saw it and looked over at Bane. “My friend,” she murmured and nodded towards the door. “Why don’t you wait outside so Mr. Daggett and I can discuss the final details and he can get a little taste.”

Bane clenched his teeth until his jaw popped at Talia’s dismissal.

He nodded stiffly and began to walk towards Talia and the distracted billionaire, seemingly the front door his destination. 

Talia’s ego swelled until her skin nearly split as she watched Bane walk past them, reveling in how she had broken the beast and made him heel in his own shit. 

Bane reached the door and looked back as Daggett reached up and began to tug at Lia’s blindfold, wanting to see her face before he tried to see if Miranda would let him tease her wet cunt. 

Bane heard Lia inhale and gasp in paralyzing fear as Daggett pushed her thighs apart.

Talia didn’t have time to shout for Larry when Bane moved with inhuman speed and grabbed the back of Daggett’s high thread count collar of his suit and yanked him backwards while he shot his other hand out in a jab and pierced the front of the billionaire’s throat with his strong, scarred fingers. 

Fleshy, wet sounds emerged from Daggett’s dying mouth as Bane closed his fingers around his spinal column and yanked until he broke his upper vertebrate into individual blocks. 

Lia’s blindfold had slipped just enough for her to watch the masked man end the life of her would-be purchaser. Blood flowed with great enthusiasm from the shredded carotid artery and pumping jugular vein. Bane shook Daggett’s body like an abusive nanny until he shit himself after his heart stopped and dropped his lifeless body to the hard wood floor. 

Talia opened her mouth and spoke in a sharp foreign tongue as Bane turned towards her, his chest heaving and his eyes practically ablaze with a napalm fed wildfire.

Talia was able to chastise Bane loud enough that she drew Larry’s attention. He left Stryver alone as he pulled his gun and clicked the safety off as he jogged towards the front door. 

Lia felt a scream threaten to spill from her lips as the door was kicked down and the armed man burst into the room, causing the woman to whirl towards him, shouting again, this time in English. “Kill him,” she managed before Bane backhanded her and knocked her to the ground and with a quick flick of his wrist, threw a titanium dagger as Larry as he raised his gun.

The serrated blade slid like a lover into the firm flesh over Larry’s heart, the metal opened the opaque pericardial sac and penetrated the pounding muscle. Larry stopped living as his aorta was bisected.

Talia growled gutturally from the floor and pulled herself to her feet as she pulled a wickedly sharp blade that once belonged to her father from the inside of her boot. 

Bane stepped backwards and felt the air part as she swung the blade in a dangerous arc.

He caught her wrist on the downward motion and snapped the bones until her fingers turned limp like a useless cock. Bane kept his grip around her crushed wrist tight, the splintered bones beginning to break the skin as he retrieved the fallen knife.

“No,” she managed as Bane buried the blade under her belly button, stopping only when the blade couldn’t fuck her any deeper and pulled it upwards, trussing and opening her up like a ten-point majestic buck. 

Bane looked over Talia’s bleeding out body as her intestines rained over his hand that gripped the hilt of the blade and met Lia’s eyes. 

Lia jumped when the wet sound of Talia’s entrails hit the floor and mixed with Daggett’s spilled body fluids. 

As Bane held Lia’s eyes and kept Talia’s body impaled on her father’s knife, out in the luxury sedan. Stryver stirred awake and mumbled as he looked around the   
empty car and quickly stuffed his cock behind his pants as he stumbled from the car, wracked by dry heaves from the drug.

Stryver walked towards the cabin and veered into some of the thicker weeds and never saw the steel beartrap until the rusty jaws closed around his lower leg. He howled and fell to the side as the metal teeth shattered his tibia and fibula and bit into the soft flesh of his calf.

Inside the cabin, Bane blinked slowly and dumped Talia’s nearly bloodless corpse to the floor, her forehead was cushioned as it landed on the soft mass of her eviscerated stomach and spleen.

He looked away from Lia at the metallic snap of the beartrap and Stryver’s screams.

Lia watched the masked man stomp out the door, dripping blood and other thicker bits as the screaming man was suddenly quiet.

She was glad she didn’t have to witness the pathetic Stryver trapped, too stupid to try and gnaw his leg off as Bane walked up and twisted his neck around in a near rotation.

Lia pressed her lips together when the masked man reappeared quickly with Stryver’s floppy corpse and dragged him to the second room where he dumped him with a dull thud. She watched and listened to the wet sound as he moved the rest of the dead to the adjoining room. Lia blinked her wide eyes as he closed the door, grateful she didn’t have to see them. 

Bane walked up behind Lia and removed the ropes from her wrists and ankles as well as tugged the blindfold completely free. 

He stole Lia’s ability to speak as he pulled her up and out of the chair and half-carried her to the air mattress that he had kicked against the wall, free from the pools of blood that had collected on the floor. 

Bane flattened her to the surface of the mattress and leveled his gaze down at her as his testosterone and gonadal hormones surged throughout his body.

Bane batted Lia’s hands easily to the side as he yanked at the thin fabric of her panties until his fingers could find her bare intimacy and tease the soft folds of her pussy. 

“Tell me you want this, that you accept this,” he groaned hoarsely and slipped two fingers into her tight opening and pumped her cunt until he forced wetness to flood his invading fingers. 

Lia opened her mouth, gasping as he kept his fingers thrusting and also began rubbing circles around her clit.

“Do you want me to provide you safety and shelter, fuck you in a way that you also derive pleasure?”

Lia moaned in time with his fingers sliding in and out of her as she blushed a flattering shade of fuchsia and nodded. 

“Say it,” he demanded and shifted, having to stop touching her just long enough to yank his painfully hard cock free. Bane stroked his length and squeezed the shaft until he could tease figure eights up and down her soaking wet slit with the sensitive head.

“I want,” Lia tried to say as he slid through her pink intimate folds and paused at her wet, tight opening. 

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice a modicum gentler.

“I want you to fuck me,” Lia said in a trembling voice as he sank himself inside her fully the moment she finished speaking. 

Bane smoothed out his plunging until he steadily made her gasp and arch against him at the end of each thrust. He urged her to tighten her thighs around his waist so he could push deeper and tease the sensitive nerve center inside her pink wetness. 

Lia closed her hands into fists and kept them firmly at her side as he resumed moving the rough pad of his thumb in circles around her swelling, sensitive clit until she wanted to buck her hips up to meet each of his invading thrusts.

“Surrender yourself,” he demanded musically, and Lia watched him yank at a leather satchel around his neck before fumbling the contents free and shifting above her until he could maintain his steady rhythm and grab her left hand from where she had it locked to her side.

Lia cried out in shock as her body was rocked to the core with a Krakatoa bell-ringing force orgasm and the feeling of the cool, metal bejeweled band he slipped onto her left finger.

Involuntary tears sprang from Lia’s body at the body-jarring effect of her climax with the masked man buried deep inside her.

Lia tentatively raised her hands to his chest, her eyes drinking in the opal and ruby ring. 

Bane lost control of his pace and thrust erratically until he came in a few hot spurts inside her. He felt the chilly metal against his chest, having poached it from an antiquity dealer who specialized in Roman artifacts. 

Bane searched Lia’s face as both of their breathing returned to normal.

He groaned melodically as his cock eventually softened and slid out of her, leaving her pussy dripping sticky come and other slippery fluids. 

Bane rose up from her and used one edge of the sheet to wipe his cock off before he tucked himself away behind the zipper of his cargo pants. 

“There are some clothes that should fit in there,” he said nodding to a box he had carried inside from the rear shed. 

“Thank you,” Lia mumbled as she wrapped the sheet around her near-nude body and dug through the box for a grey thermal shirt, sky blue hooded sweatshirt and clashing red sweatpants with a small hole over the right knee.

Lia was zipping up the sweatshirt when the masked man appeared and picked up the box of clothes she had passed over. 

“It’s time to leave,” Bane said and nodded towards the door and glanced at his watch, the detonators on a timer. The combination of gases and chemicals for making the deadly and addictive White Angel was extremely combustible and even more explosive all crowded together. 

The chemical weapons would make DNA identification nearly impossible as the genetic strands would be shredded apart in the blast, the surviving molecules mutated and no longer identifiable as entirely human. 

Lia walked stiffly to the door, the masked man at her back. Once outside he closed the door and directed Lia to the large utility vehicle he had idling. 

He opened the passenger door for her and left her to climb inside as he put the cardboard box in the rear cargo area and slipped behind the wheel. 

Lia clicked her seatbelt into place and rested her hands-on top of her bright sweat pant clad thighs. She let her eyes absorb all the ring’s detail from around her left finger, memorizing each curved prong and facet of every stone. 

Bane pressed the accelerator to the floor, wanting as much space as possible between them and the blast.

Lia’s eyes were drawn from the ring when the blast sounded over the roar of the gas-guzzling engine and she looked through the back window as the orange glow of the explosion was visible as they sped away. 

Lia settled back against the seat and returned her eyes to the ring, the Roman design aptly named The Ring of Love, custom made for general and politician Marcus Licinius Crassus’s slave and lover. 

As Bane and Lia continued in silence as he headed northeast in the large vehicle, back at the burning and fiery inferno that was once the cabin and loss of Lia’s innocence, Blake brought the car to a screeching halt as Gordon pushed open the door before they stopped moving. 

“Commissioner, stop,” Blake shouted and yanked Gordon back as one of the steel vats exploded and sent metal shrapnel flying through the air. 

Gordon wept freely and loudly as he believed he was watching the cremation of his daughter. 

Blake and the damaged men could only bow their heads and stay silent in their support. 

As Gordon dropped to his knees and vomited his belly full of acidic bile and coffee, Bane continued to take Lia miles and miles further away with each passing second. 

A part of Jim Gordon died in the dirt in front of the white-hot flames. He would never see Lia again even though he searched until lung cancer ate him from the inside out.

After he told Sara that Lia was gone, she faded like a cut flower and lived the rest of her life on autopilot.

Blake lost himself in alcoholism and got himself fired. He maintained the rest of his drunk life on his pension.

The damaged men remained damaged, suicide the eventual cause of their deaths.

Lia learned to live under Bane’s roof and next to his side. 

Bane passed into death five years before her. Their children grown with families of their own. 

Lia died from cervical cancer that had went undetected until one day she fainted and woke up in a hospital bed she never got out of, dying on a morphine drip wave.

She slipped into death with the Roman ring around her shriveled finger, taped into place. Thinking she had lived a real life, not sheltered, sent to private college, and surrounded by buttoned down security. 

Lia brought forth life through sweat and effort and earned Bane’s respect and fierce loyalty. 

Her heart slowed under the opiate IV drip and fentanyl patch stuck to the outside of her pale thigh. 

Lia’s last breath was with her eyes closed and the remembrance of being the focus of all of Bane’s attention and the veritable weight of his gaze. 

Her passing was peaceful after what she felt was a fulfilled life.


End file.
